In the Dark
by MyQuantumTheory
Summary: The team reacts to Emily's return post-Doyle, and they work toward getting their family back in working order. Hotch & Emily realise it's about time they do something about their feelings for one another, & they both have some issues to work on. [Whole team & Jack, with focus on Hotch / Emily.]
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This is my first CM (or anything at all actually) fanfic. I hope you like. This chapter is sort of a prologue, because I couldn't resist getting started on getting into their heads. Sorry it's kind of long - I wanted to give everyone a chance. Of course (sadly) I don't own Criminal Minds or anything to do with it. I just like to have fun with it. Reviews would be lovely.**

* * *

Emily lay in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. She didn't get it. She'd spent every night alone the whole time she was away, but now that she was back it felt totally unnatural. But she'd spent every night alone when she'd lived here too. She sighed and rolled onto her side. She couldn't stop her mind whirring, thinking about her team, her family. She had hurt them so bad. It had been necessary, she knew. There was no other way. She had to protect them, and herself. But it sucked. She'd hurt them and they were still hurting now and she was scared. She desperately wanted to reach out to them all, to wrap her arms around every one of them and apologise for everything. But it was the middle of the night and they weren't ready and she was scared they never would be. That she could never really come home, because for them she was already gone. Maybe she could never really be Emily Prentiss again. She shivered, feeling more alone than ever as she pulled her quilt around herself and closed her eyes. _I wish Hotch was here_. Her eyes shot open again. _Wait, I what?_ But the moment it had crossed her mind she knew it was true. She hadn't allowed herself to even consider it in the months she was somebody else, but Emily Prentiss loved Aaron Hotchner, and she wanted him here by her side. She had to give him time. She had to let him get used to her being back. But then she had to tell him. Breathless, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling again.

* * *

JJ sat on the bathroom floor, sipping a glass of water then resting her head against the cool tiles on the wall, blinking hard to push back the tears and the nausea. This position had become familiar to her – the twisting, churning feeling of the guilt turned her stomach regularly. She had kept this from her team and they were all hurting. She could hardly process the fact that she had Emily back, she was home, she could show up at her door and they could go out for coffee together… She hated herself for hurting Spencer, and he hated her… He'd probably never forgive her, not really. Every night for months he'd show up and she'd let him in and she'd hold him as he cried, let him fall asleep on her, and sometimes she'd fall asleep too and sometimes she'd end up in here, running the shower to cover up the sound of her guilt. She closed her eyes and cried silently. _I'm sorry_.

* * *

Spencer curled his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on them. If he could just _forget_ for a moment. If he could let go of all the moments JJ spent comforting him, keeping the most important thing in the world from him… But he couldn't forget, and his mind kept playing them over and over and he couldn't make it stop. He hated that – when his mind did something he had no control over. It scared him more than anything. And Emily was _back_ now, she was here, and he wanted nothing more than to hug her, to feel that she was real, to spend time with her laughing and being teased and just _loved_, because she had loved him like her little brother, he knew that - but he couldn't bring himself to open up again. To let her in. Because he had tried so hard to force her out, force himself to admit that she was gone, that he could never have that again, and now… Now he was afraid there was no going back.

* * *

Garcia sat on her sofa, cuddling a sparkly purple cushion to her chest as she half-watched an old black and white movie whose name and plot she had not quite taken in. She allowed tears to flow down her cheeks as she tried to process all of the things she was feeling. She was so unbelievably happy that Emily was alive, and well, and _home_. But she was also hurt, and scared, and it felt like at any minute Emily would be snatched away again. Every moment she tried to be happy and to think about spending time with Emily, her death hit her all over again and she was overcome with a wave of grief that she had to fight back against. _Emily is alive dammit!_ she would tell her brain. And eventually it would subside. And she'd allow herself to feel happy. And she would think, _I'll ask Em out for coffee and shopping tomorrow_. And then her brain would go into lockdown – _Emily is dead_, it would say firmly. _You need to stop this Penelope. You need to let her go._ As it had for all those months when she would wake up forgetting and then have to remind herself. She was so damn confused. She picked up her cell phone and fired a text off to Emily: '_Hey_ _loved one. Know you are loved. You better be sleeping._'She switched the sparkly cushion for a soft, fluffy one, lowered her face onto it and sobbed.

* * *

Admitting defeat, Derek got out of bed and went to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water and sat down, head in hands. It was just too much. He could still see the blood, the piece of wood sticking grotesquely out of her abdomen. He could hear himself begging her to keep looking at him. _Stay with me baby_. And he could hear her telling him to let her go and he had told her he wouldn't and... And then she was gone and he was supposed to let her go. Dammit he'd _tried_, but he never managed it because his heart was never in it. Now that she was back though… He could barely look at her without seeing the light leave her eyes as she slipped into unconsciousness. And the overwhelming guilt he felt at not getting there sooner, in time to save her. He should feel relieved. It wasn't true now. They _had_ made it in time, she had made it, they had got to her in time and she was safe, she was home. But those feelings he'd built up, all of that hurt and guilt and absolute painful _failure_ that had built up over all these months just wouldn't leave him. He pounded his fist on the table, feeling the lump rise in his throat.

* * *

Rossi sat in his favourite leather armchair, the dog far too big for his lap but stubbornly lying there anyway, snoring. If he wasn't careful he'd have no blood in his feet by the end of the night, but he was glad of the company, and the soft fur to stroke as he stared into the darkness. It was a lot to process. He had come back to the BAU with unfinished business, with something to prove. But he had gained a family. Something to fill up his life like he could never have imagined. When they had lost her, he'd tried damn hard not to let it affect him. He had seen a lot – a lot of colleagues had died in the field, it was the way the job worked, here and in the Marines. But this team was different. _Emily_ was different. She was an outstanding agent and an amazing woman, and her loss was a lot to stomach. And his family had fallen apart with grief, and he had lost everything again. And now she was back. He couldn't believe it. He wasn't really sure he _did_ believe it. He leaned down to nuzzle the dog, feeling numb more than anything else. He didn't know how long it would take for him to be able to process it, to playfully wink and nudge her and make some joke again… Without feeling like he was talking to a ghost, that she'd disappear any moment.

* * *

Hotch couldn't sleep. He sat up in bed, head back against the wall, with the bedside lamp on because he couldn't bear to be alone in the dark right now. He had barely slept since he had made the decision. He had understood what he was doing, understood that it was the only way to save her, but he also understood that he was betraying his family in a way that could tear them apart. And now… He had forced JJ to keep the most painful secret he could imagine. He had put them all through the absolute hell of losing her, of grieving for her, and he didn't know whether they'd ever forgive him. She had been all alone all this time, with no idea when or even if she could come home… He had hurt them all, because there had been no other way, because he _had_ to protect her and it was his job to make these decisions. And he had lost her. He had allowed her to walk away because it was the only way to save her life, but the moment she was gone, the moment he came home to his empty bed and wondered whether Emily Prentiss could ever come how, he knew. He loved her. He wanted her here, with him, always – he at _least_ wanted to try. And he had been too much of a stubborn, by-the-book _ass_ to notice and admit it to himself in time. But he wouldn't let it happen again. He would give her time to settle in, to get back to being herself, to start to mend her relationships with the team. And then he would tell her. He had to tell her.


	2. Chapter 2: Around Proof (Part 1)

**Author's note: (I still don't own Criminal Minds.) Thank you for your reviews on the first chapter! The next two chapters take place before & in between what we see in 'Proof', S7E02. Hopefully when it's important to know where in the timeline we are, it should be reasonably easy to follow. If you don't know, it's probably not important. At some point (probably soon) I'm going to diverge from working around canon but I really wanted to start here. Enjoy :)**

* * *

Emily was buttoning up her coat to get ready to leave for work when the doorbell rang. She paused for a moment to collect herself, to push down the natural fight-or-flight mechanisms that rose inside her. _You actually know people here,_ she reminded herself. _It isn't totally outwith the realms of possibility that there's somebody you want to see on the other side of that door_. Still, her heart was beating a little faster than normal as she looked through the peephole, and that didn't change when she saw who was on the other side. "Hotch!" she said, opening the door.

He gave her an uncertain half-smile as she stepped back to let him inside. "I thought you might want a ride," he said. "First real day back since…" She grinned at him and he shrugged. "Carpool?" he said, holding up his keys.

"Of course!" she said, with enthusiasm that was probably a little disproportionate to what he was offering. It was just so good to have her friends around again, and honestly, it was good to have Hotch standing in her apartment. Just last night she'd been lying in bed alone and realised she desperately wished he was there with her… She knew she had to give him time before admitting any kind of feelings for him, but she couldn't deny being delighted he was here.

"Good," he said. "You ready?"

As they walked to the car, Hotch complimented Emily on the sheer number of locks she had on her door, and then said quietly, uncertain whether he should say it at all, "You know, it won't be easy. With the team." He held the car door open for her without thinking, and felt his heart race a little at her smile as she got in. She was quite breathtaking, and at the most unexpected moments.

"I know," she continued seamlessly when he'd got in his side of the car. "I just hope…" She closed her eyes and leaned her head back as he began to drive, trying to push down all of the things that had terrified her as she lay in the dark last night. _What if I can never really be me again? What if Emily Prentiss really is dead?_ "I hope they can forgive me," she said softly.

Hotch glanced over at her, trying to keep his eyes on the road and his mind on driving and his hands where they were supposed to be, but she looked so sad… "They will," he said. "Of course they will. It's JJ and me they'll have more trouble with… We've been right here, keeping it from them." He shook his head. He was trying to put his own guilt in a box and keep it from her for now – she had enough of her own to deal with – but that sentence came out without his permission.

Emily nodded, opening her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry that you guys... That you had to do that. I'm sorry I put you in that position."

"Prentiss, _Doyle_ put us all in this position. This isn't your fault." She nodded again, but when he glanced over at her again she was obviously struggling with her emotions. He weighed his options, realised this was no situation to be weighing his options about, and reached across and took her hand. "Emily, it's going to be okay," he said firmly.

She was so taken aback by the hand holding that it took her a few seconds to register the use of her first name. She turned to look at him, a soft smile spreading on her face. "I hope so," she said. "Thank you." She squeezed his hand and he smiled reassuringly at her before reclaiming it and putting it back on the steering wheel. She leaned back again, feeling all of the confusion and fear of a few minutes ago but also a warm glow from the hand that had just left his. "So," she said, feeling the subject had to change before they got to work. "How's JJ doing as a profiler?"

"She's amazing," Hotch said honestly. "She picked it up incredibly quickly. I've never seen a rookie profiler analyse and write up cases as well as she does."

Emily grinned, glad JJ was doing so well, and filing this away as something to tell JJ if she needed a morale boost. Out-loud compliments from Hotch were rare and valuable commodities.

* * *

JJ's heart leapt when she saw Emily and Hotch arrive – she had a perverse feeling that right now the three of them shared something the others didn't, and the whole situation made her nervous about going near the bullpen. She had been hovering around downstairs but she'd just about run out of excuses. And just seeing Emily walk through the doors was still a wonderful novelty in itself. Emily came toward her and Hotch gave her a quick wave and kept heading for his office.

As soon as she was close enough, JJ wrapped her arms around Emily and hugged her close, burying her face in Emily's shoulder. Emily held her tightly, not quite understanding what comfort she was providing but knowing it was necessary. "Hey, you okay?" she asked.

JJ took a deep breath and gave one last squeeze before stepping back. "Yeah," she said, trying to push her emotions back as they walked down the corridor. "Yeah I'm okay."

Emily kept pace with her, chatting about the profiling classes. This seemed an appropriate time to pass on Hotch's compliment…

* * *

As the team went through the briefing for the new case, Spencer kept his eyes as far from meeting JJ's as possible. He spoke up a couple of times, but he made sure to keep his distance. He glanced at her once or twice, saw her looking at him and looked away immediately, determinedly keeping the tears from rising in his eyes. He had done quite enough crying in front of Jennifer Jareau.

If only he actually hated her this would be a lot easier.

"… Wheels up in thirty minutes."

He took off immediately for the men's room.


	3. Chapter 3: Around Proof (Part 2)

**Author's note: Like the previous one, the events in this chapter take place around what we saw in 'Proof', S7E02. And nope, I ****_still_**** don't own Criminal Minds.**

* * *

Hotch headed for his office to get prepared to leave, and as soon as the door closed behind him he let his mask drop for a second. This was going to be exhausting. There was so much tension on the team and he desperately hoped it didn't affect the case. Maybe he should pair Emily and JJ in the field, and Reid and Morgan, so at least there wouldn't be as many chances for things to go wrong… There was a knock on his door, and he quickly rearranged his features as he turned to face it. "Come in."

Emily entered, closing the door behind her and said, "Hey. Um, I just wanted to… Listen, I know you've noticed Reid isn't dealing with this well, and he's taking it out on JJ… I hope you don't think I'm stepping over the line, but…"

"But?" Hotch prompted, trying to let her know it was okay to continue, that he was very much in a position to accept suggestions on how to handle this.

"I think it's best if you pair them, in the field. They're both professional enough to get the job done either way, and I don't think he'll deal with it if he isn't forced to. It hurts too much, and Reid doesn't…" She paused, casting around for the right words. "Doesn't have to really deal with his feelings very often. It's going to be tough for him and I think he's going to need to have his hand forced a little."

Hotch considered this. It was the opposite of what he'd been thinking about, but she was probably right… Putting it off and trying not to have to deal with it was _his_ screwed up approach to life, not one he should be forcing on his team. He nodded. She was braver than he was, and she was right. "I think I will. Thanks."

She bit her lip, hesitating over whether to say something else. He looked tired, and worried, and she wanted nothing more than to just hug the tension out of him. "Hey, Hotch?" He raised his eyebrows. "It's going to be okay." She gave him one last smile before she turned and left.

* * *

In reality it kind of wasn't okay. On the jet, when Hotch paired Reid with JJ, JJ smiled and Reid did not. Emily was glad to be out in the field with Morgan, and to her great relief although he wasn't quite his usual self, he still spoke softly and didn't snipe at her like she'd feared he might. But Reid and JJ were clearly a different matter. In the station, they had some kind of argument that resulted in Reid leaving in something of a storm and JJ standing in tears in the doorway of the room he'd just left.

Emily called after Reid but decided it was best to let him go. Instead, she led JJ back into the conference room and closed the door behind them. JJ sat down, put her head in her arms and sobbed. Emily sat beside her, rubbing her back and feeling like the worst friend in the world. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's going to be okay." She wasn't completely sure she believed that, but it was all they had.

* * *

_Tempered suggestion_, Rossi thought with amusement, straightening files and settling down with some coffee. _Your Unit Chief tells you to invite the whole team to your house for a cooking lesson to boost morale, and you're supposed to believe it's a _tempered suggestion_…_

Still, he couldn't deny that it was a _good_ suggestion. He'd already been sharing tips with Garcia, but clearly she needed more guidance if she thought she'd get away with putting tofu in one of his recipes. And if any team needed a morale boost, it was this one… He sighed, taking a sip of bad police-station coffee. It would be a good idea. If everybody would go, it would bring them together. But if somebody _didn't_ go – and he had a feeling about who that might be – then it could make things worse. Drive more of a wedge between them. He sighed and dialled Prentiss's number – if she couldn't convince him to go, who could?

"Prentiss."

"So I've been thinking."

"Go on."

"If we do this cooking lesson at my place…"

He could hear her trying to mask her smile. "_If_?"

He responded by trying and failing to mask his own. "When. When we do this cooking lesson at my place, Reid has to be there. You think you can make that happen?"

"I…" She puffed air out of her cheeks. "I will give it my best. We need a talk anyway."

* * *

Luckily it wasn't too long before the beak in the case came, and the stakes got too high for any distractions. By the time they got on the jet, Emily was so consumed by the image of the victim's blistered, swollen hands and the horror of what more the unsub could have done if they hadn't got to her on time, that she almost forgot to be nervous about her talk with Reid, until she sat down opposite him.

* * *

"We'll see." Spencer couldn't believe that had just come out of his mouth. He'd basically just agreed to go to Rossi's for a cooking lesson. And although he fought hard to keep a real smile from appearing on his face, he felt himself even kind of looking forward to the off-the-clock time with Emily. Their talk had reminded him of how easily she made him smile, even when he really didn't want to.

JJ was a different matter. He'd blown up at her in the station. He'd made her cry. And worse, he'd realised… She was _right_. Although it hurt, although he knew something was different about their relationship now and he didn't know whether it would ever go back to normal, he knew that they'd _had_ to hide Emily's survival. For her safety. To keep her alive. They wouldn't have done it for any other reason. He wished he could have known. He understood why he _couldn't_ know, but he was coming to realise that wasn't really the problem. The problem was that he felt fundamentally different about a JJ who was capable of keeping such a huge secret from him even when he was sobbing in her arms for ten weeks. He felt very different about that JJ than he had about the heart-on-sleeve JJ he thought he knew.

He was going to have to find a way to deal with that.

"Hey," Emily said, dragging him out of his thoughts. "I'm taking that as a yes."

He smiled enigmatically and went back to his book.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: This chapter takes place after the team's cooking lesson at Rossi's, at the end of Proof (S7E02). As always I don't own Criminal Minds. **

* * *

After dinner, Rossi put on some music and provided a lot of bottles of wine. This was going well. He'd thought Reid wasn't going to show, but eventually he did, and now he and JJ were loading the dishwasher together. Normally Rossi would tell them not to bother – they were guests and that was his job, but he didn't want to interrupt them. He'd just keep the party lubricated with plenty of wine and music, and have fun and relax with his family around him.

* * *

Hotch couldn't take his eyes off of Emily as she danced with Garcia. Even when Garcia dramatically grabbed her in a waltz-hold and started dancing her around the patio to a tempo completely unrelated to the music playing, as hilarious as the image was, she was so beautiful, and her smile so radiant, that he found himself just gazing at her.

"This is going well," Rossi said suddenly from his side, startling him.

"God Dave, where the hell did you come from?"

"Stealth is my middle name." Rossi refilled Hotch's wine, which had been nowhere near empty, and leaned against the wall alongside him. "It's good to have her back," he said, shooting a sidelong glance at Hotch.

"Yeah," he said, more softly than he'd have liked. If he wanted to keep his mask on he'd have to slow down with the wine.

"Aaron…"

"I know," Hotch said quickly, suprising himself. "I know we can't."

Rossi raised his eyebrows. "I don't recall saying anything about _can't_." They looked back at the patio, where Morgan and Emily were now slow-dancing. "I think it's worth exploring, don't you?"

* * *

Reid and JJ appeared from inside and Garcia immediately grabbed their wine glasses from their hands and said, "Here, you guys dance! I'll hold your wine. Go go go."

Reid looked startled but JJ laughed and took his hand, leading him into a free space and draping her arms around his neck. "Relax," she said. "Nobody can dance, really."

"Morgan can," he replied, nodding over to Emily and Morgan swaying gently.

JJ laughed. Then she felt Spencer's arms pull her closer and she abandoned all pretence of dancing and just hugged him hard. "I'm glad you came. I'm so sorry," she said quietly, her breath tickling his ear. "I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry…" She thought about his admission that he'd considered taking dilaudid again and felt sick.

He held her close, forcibly reminded of the nights he'd cried in her arms. He tried to push the memories back, to remember why he'd come tonight. "JJ, I'm sorry too." He sighed. "I know you didn't have a choice. I know you'd never have let Emily go if there was any other choice, and neither would Hotch. I just…" He trailed off and she loosened her grip a little to step back and look him in the eyes. He met and held her gaze easily for the first time in what felt like forever. "I trusted you and I thought there was nothing you could ever do to betray that… And you did. I know that you had to. And that changes it a little… But it still _feels_ the same, you know?"

She nodded, tears filling her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"No, it's okay. You don't need to apologise any more. I'm sorry I've been so… Unpleasant…" He dropped his gaze again, and pulled her in closer. "I just want you to understand why this is so difficult. And JJ… I'm sorry for throwing the dilaudid thing at you. I'm… An addict. It was a hard time. You wouldn't have been responsible if -"

"Spence," she said quietly, hugging him and starting to dance as a lump formed in her throat. "It's okay. You didn't. You did good."

He nodded, trying to lift the cloud in his brain and just dance with her.

* * *

Emily smiled, resting her head against Morgan's shoulder as they danced.

"Hey, Em," he said.

"Mm?"

"It's good to have you back." He tightened his hold around her, so they were in more of a gently-swaying hug than anything else.

"It's good to be back," she replied. "This is nice." She fought to let herself stay in the moment, but as soon as the song finished she had to apologise. "Morgan…"

"Emily it's okay," he said firmly, immediately.

"No. Listen. Derek, you… You saved my life. And you had to spend all that time believing that you _hadn't_. You spent months chasing him, risking your job to avenge a death that never…" She shook her head and looked up at him. "I'm so sorry. And thank you for caring so much."

He smiled, kissed her cheek and said, "Really. It's okay."

And then Hotch appeared at his side. "May I have this dance?" he asked, looking at Emily, eyes smouldering.

Morgan winked at Emily, said, "Sure thing boss," and went off to find Garcia.

* * *

Hotch couldn't help it. He knew this was probably a bad idea. He'd promised himself he was going to give her some time before he told her he… Had feelings for her. And she was so radiant and he was a little hazy from the wine Dave had kept refilling. But if he had to tell her soon because he didn't want to lose an opportunity, then who was he to turn down the opportunity to dance with the most beautiful woman in the world?

Emily took his hand, and he let the other rest on the soft curve of her waist as they started to dance. He couldn't take his eyes off hers, looking back at him with wide-eyed not-quite-innocence. She was thinking a lot of things. _Hotch can dance? _And, _Of course such a perfect gentleman can dance._ And, _I never want to stop looking at those eyes_. And, _God I want to kiss him_. And, _I need to give him time_. His hand felt good on her waist and his eyes were so intense it took a lot of concentration to stop herself from pressing her lips to his.

Wordlessly, he pulled her a little closer, moving his hand to the small of her back. She bit her lip to stop herself from saying all the things she wasn't supposed to say yet and wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her close, still dancing, thinking that if this song never ended he could stay like this forever.

* * *

Garcia spotted Emily and JJ as soon as she arrived at the coffee shop, and wasted no time when she sat down with them. "You and boss man were looking pretty cosy last night," she said, turning to Emily with a wicked grin on her face, the second they'd ordered their coffees.

Emily cursed her blushing face as she looked determinedly at the table and said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

The silence made her look up and she laughed as she saw JJ and Garcia just staring at her, matching expressions of eyebrows-raised disbelief. She rolled her eyes. "Okay, I mean, I'm not going to pretend like he's not an attractive guy -"

"And totally hot for you," Garcia added, nodding and leaning forward eagerly.

Emily glared at her. "- but it's not… I'm…" She sighed as her friends just stared at her, waiting to beat down all of her excuses. "I mean it guys. I just came back. He thought he'd never see me again. Now isn't the time to start…"

"Not even a little date?" JJ coaxed.

Emily shook her head ruefully. "JJ. We work together. Fraternisation. Rules. Regulations. He's my _boss_. If we're going to do anything – and I'm _not saying we are_," she added, as Penelope grinned gleefully, "- then it has to be… Something we've thought hard about. It's too big a deal for a whim, you know?"

"And is this a whim?" JJ said. "Are you telling me what you feel now is a fleeting attraction and you've never experienced such feelings for Aaron Hotchner in the past?"

"Because it's not like you've had a big fat crush on him since forever," Penelope added. "Not like you were the only person who could get him to poke his head out of his giant protective turtle shell even for a second after Foyet. Not like you've been sneaking in casual touches and watching out for him for – oh, you know – _years_."

Emily sighed. "Okay, so it's been a while," she admitted. "But I don't know how he feels about me. And now is not the time to do anything about it."

"We know how he feels about you," JJ said, sitting back to give the waitress space to put the coffees they'd ordered on the table. "Or at least we have a good idea." Emily met her eyes, looking apprehensive. "Come on, Em… You saw him last night."

"He was drunk."

"He was _tipsy_. And all that means is he took his goddamn stoic nothing-affects-me mask off for an evening. And the way he was looking at you…"

"I know," Emily said, almost inaudibly.

"Then _ask him out for god's sake_," Penelope said, rolling her eyes theatrically.

Emily sighed. "So JJ. How's Henry?"

* * *

**Hope you liked it. I feel like we'll be diverging from working around canon pretty soon – knew I wouldn't last. Reviews would be lovely please!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: This chapter takes place after 'Dorado Falls', S7E03. Thank you for reading. Also, I know I've posted a few chapters pretty close together but I've had a couple of days off & I really wanted to get this written!**

* * *

Hotch settled down at his desk to write up the case. It was always tough seeing a family torn apart like he had on this case, and when the divorce had been due to the wife thinking the husband was married to the job... Hotch tried to suppress his guilt but it rose in his throat like bile. Haley had left because of his attachment to his job, and then it had got her killed as well. His son was growing up without a mother because _he_ hadn't made the deal, because _his_ need to catch the bad guys was too great... He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head before he got started on the file. Jack was sleeping over at his friend's house tonight, so he didn't have to worry about getting home to him - it would be nice not to have to take any work home tonight. He turned his desk lamp on, picked up his pen and opened the case file. Then there was a knock at his door. "Come in," he said, pen still poised.

Rossi came in and sat down opposite him. In his best 'I used to be your boss' voice, he said, "Aaron, I forbid you to write up this case tonight. I'll write the report. You can check it when it's done."

"Wh-"

"You know why. Jack's with a friend. You have a night off. And you have business to attend to."

Confused, Hotch didn't reply. This case file was the only business he had to attend to – he had finished everything else he had outstanding and...

Rossi caught him glancing down at the file in confusion and rolled his eyes. "Not _that_ kind of business, Aaron. Emily. You have a night off. So does she."

Hotch weighed his options quickly. He could keep fobbing Rossi off indefinitely. Or he could admit how he felt. Considering Rossi's persistence, he knew which would be the easier option, and it was not the one he was accustomed to. He dropped his pen and put his head in his hands. "Dave, I can't," he said, pain obvious in his voice. "She's just got back. She needs time. And Strauss… Fraternisation… Emily and I… We both gave up everything for the BAU. She has always wanted this job, more than anything. And so have I. We can't…" He trailed off as he saw that Dave was not taking this seriously. In fact, the corners of his mouth were pulling up into a smile. Hotch scowled. "Dave, I'm serious."

"You're always serious," Rossi said. He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "All I'm going to say," he said, meeting Hotch's eyes very deliberately, "is that I don't think Strauss is going to beat too hard on the fraternisation book." He sat back and raised his hands at his sides in a gesture of surrender. "All I'm going to say," he repeated.

Hotch's brow furrowed as he allowed these words to sink in. Then the realisation his and his eyebrows shot up. "You're... Dave, are you in a relationship with Strauss?!"

Dave grinned. "Ask the lady out to dinner, Aaron." He winked, gave Hotch one last slap on the arm and then turned and left the office. Hotch stared after him.

He _did_ want to see her outside of work. And they'd both seen other members of the team outside work, so an invitation in itself wouldn't be anything too loaded. He reached for his phone then hesitated. She hadn't been back long enough to really settle in yet. In fact Morgan had arranged training for her, to make himself more comfortable with her return to the field, and although Hotch hadn't mandated it he was happy for it to go ahead, and happy Morgan had thought of it, if it was something that would make the team function better in the long run... Once the team was back to some kind of normality, _then_ he could tell her... Would he be able to go to dinner with her _without_ telling her? And what if he _did_ say something and she rejected him? He wanted to tell her, to be open with her and lay his cards on the table, but that didn't make the thought of being turned down by a woman he cared so much about any less terrifying... God, what if she _didn't_ reject him? He was her boss, her single-father-married-to-his-dangerous-time-consuming-job boss... Did he want to drag her into this?

He picked his pen back up and went back to the file. Then hesitated again.

* * *

Emily was actually feeling reasonably upbeat when she got home, considering she hadn't managed to catch the little girl in time to stop her from triggering and witnessing her father's outburst. She felt pretty guilty about that. But she and Morgan had arranged times for him to train her, to make him feel more secure about her return, and that felt like a pretty positive step in the right direction, even if she had been a little offended at first. She didn't need protecting, but he _did_ need to feel like he could protect her, and she was happy to provide that comfort. And she was enjoying being back.

As she got changed out of her work clothes, she stopped to look at herself in the mirror. The doctors had worked their magic on Doyle's brand, so although she still had a scar on her left breast, at least it didn't look like a clover. Compartmentalising would have been a lot harder with that staring at her every time she wanted to show a little cleavage. But below her ribs was always going to be a mess – there was only so much you could do to patch a person together after an injury like that. She stared at it in the mirror, running her hands over it.

Her phone rang, snapping her back to reality. She checked the caller ID and her heart did a little leap. Hotch. "Hey," she said, sitting down on her bed, still in her bra, still running her fingers over the raised skin on her abdomen.

"Hey," he said. There was something different about his voice. Nervousness, maybe. Definitely not his usual, decisive self. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, smiling. "You asked me right before I left."

"I know."

She suppressed a laugh. "Are _you_ okay?"

"I'm fine."

A few seconds of silence followed and Emily said, "Um… Hotch?"

"Yeah, sorry. Sorry, I'm… I don't really know why I called you. I just wanted to um…"

Emily bit her lip. She had never heard him sound so flustered. Garcia and JJ would never forgive her if she didn't take this opportunity. He had called for apparently no reason, and now he was feeling awkward and it was adorable. _Adorable_. There was a word she'd never have believed she'd apply to Aaron Hotchner when she first arrived at the BAU. She squeezed her eyes shut and said, "Hotch?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to… Come over, or I could come to your place or…?" She realised how that sounded and immediately added, "I mean, you have Jack or I'd um -"

"That sounds great," he said quickly. "Actually I'm still at the office, and Jack has a sleepover with a friend tonight, so… Um. Have you eaten? I could pick you up..?"

"Great!" Emily said, grinning. "Yeah. I'll just get dressed." She realised immediately that she had essentially just announced she _wasn't_ dressed now and cursed internally. "I mean -"

Hotch laughed. "You do that. I'll be there in thirty minutes. Bar food?"

"Definitely. See you soon."

When she got off the phone she looked in the mirror again, this time at the ridiculous grin spreading across her face. Dinner. At a bar. With Hotch. Adorable, nervous Hotch. She'd need to work hard to keep her mouth shut, but it'd be worth it to see him outside of work. She really had just missed being around him when she was gone...


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Thank you for all the support so far guys! Here's the next chapter, & sadly I still don't own Criminal Minds.**

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Although Hotch had seemed a little nervous when he arrived at Emily's apartment, they had made easy conversation in the car all the way to the bar where they currently sat sharing a platter of finger foods. Emily noticed that he hadn't gone home to change – he'd just removed his tie and rolled up his sleeves, and his jacket was flung over the back of his seat. _Hungry, maybe, or eager to get here… No way he just didn't consider it, this is Hotch. Or maybe it just didn't feel like the kind of occasion he had to change his clothes for – just a casual dinner with a friend after work… _She bit an onion ring in half and chastised herself internally. She wasn't meant to profile him. And she wasn't doing a very good job anyway – she was too caught up in hoping.

"Lost in thought?" Hotch asked.

"Nah," she replied. "Lost in food. This is amazing." She popped the second half of the onion ring in her mouth and he laughed. He seemed so relaxed. Making him laugh was a wonderful feeling and she wanted to treasure it forever.

As they continued to eat and chit-chat Hotch started to allow his glances to take in more information. She'd changed into jeans and boots, and a black scoop-neck vest top. A delicate silver chain glinted at her collarbone, with no pendant, and her hair was styled as it had been at work, straight and falling loosely around her shoulders. _Why a chain with no pendant? Just to dress it up? To draw focus to that part of her body without making a statement? _He forced himself to look away, cast his eyes around the bar. It was bustling, just busy enough not to be too distracting but to give somebody with an interest in human behaviour something to look at other than his team member's exquisite collarbone. He wasn't meant to profile her. And he wasn't meant to check her out.

"Hey, Hotch?" He turned back to her with a smile and she said, "Lost in thought?"

He laughed again. He was doing a lot of that tonight, and it reminded him just how much of it he _didn't_ do usually. "Kind of," he admitted.

"Anything you can share, or are they the _other_ kind of thoughts?"

He raised his eyebrows, smiling, and she simultaneously gave herself an internal high-five for getting that sexy smile on his face, and an internal kick in the butt for being so terrible at keeping her flirting to a minimum. "Excellent question Agent Prentiss," Hotch replied, and took a very pointed, very large bite of a chicken strip and then gestured apologetically that his mouth was too full to answer. She laughed and slapped him playfully on the arm.

* * *

By the time they had eaten as much as they could handle and settled down with a couple of beers, Hotch had given up on not looking at her. They had done enough flirting to take their outing beyond two team members grabbing a bite to eat after work, and although he wasn't quite sure where that left them, he was confident enough in them both to just go with it, for now. If she was comfortable enough to joke around with him like this, he was delighted to let it happen, and he liked not having to check himself constantly. So he allowed himself to check her out a little, and his eyes lingered on the chain glinting at her collarbone. When she caught his eyes somewhere below her neck, he said, "I'm sorry. I'm looking at your necklace."

"It's okay," she said. "I'm looking at your buttons."

He laughed, surprised, and she winked as she got up. "Bathroom break," she said. "Be right back." As she edged past him, she placed a hand on each of his shoulders and gave them a quick squeeze. He turned and watched her walk away, threading her way through the busy bar. The feel of her hands on his shoulders warmed him, and remained with him as he sipped his beer and checked his texts. One from Jack's friend's mother letting him know that the boys were happily asleep after having dinner and watching a movie, and one from Rossi telling him he'd better be with Prentiss. He smiled, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

* * *

Emily washed her hands and then looked herself over in the mirror in the ladies' room. There was a kind of confidence bubbling under the surface that she got from flirting, but she felt something else too. Vulnerability, maybe. She wanted to be open and silly and playful with Hotch, and she was getting that tonight, but she was also scared. She didn't want this to just be a game, for either of them. She hoped it wasn't just for tonight. She was afraid she wouldn't be able to go back to _not_ talking to him like this. Feeling his eyes on her and reaching out to touch him without worrying that she was stepping over a line... It felt good, and right, and a little addictive. She took a deep breath, gave herself another glance over and felt a smile creep onto her face as she anticipated going back to the table with him. _You're such a sap_, she told herself. She grinned and made her way back through the bar, to the table where he sat waiting for her. "Hey," she said, brushing a hand over his shoulder blades as she went past him to get to her own seat. She sat down and took a sip of her beer. "Miss me?"

He smiled a sad, faraway smile and she realised that given recent events that was a bit of a loaded question. "I meant -" she began.

"I know," he said, smiling reassuringly. It was sweet how often she was tripping over herself like this tonight. Maybe because she was less guarded. She wasn't inspecting things from all angles before saying them, as he suspected she probably did most of the time. He knew he did. He reached across the table and took her hand in his, amazed at how simple and and beautiful and life-changing a movement it was. Her hand felt soft and small in his. "Yes. To both questions." He pressed her fingers to his lips and met her eyes as he kissed them. She was watching him closely, her eyes wide and wondering as they had been at Rossi's.

This didn't feel like it was just a game. Their hands dropped back to the table, and she stared at them, brushing her fingers over his knuckles, drawing imaginary shapes on his hand with her thumb. It felt good to hold his hand. It was so simple, so natural, but it changed everything. She looked back up and met his eyes. He was watching her, a searching look in his eyes that she had never seen before. He looked open, trusting. It made her want to wrap him up in her arms and hold him forever. She took a deep breath. "Hotch..."

"Emily?" he said softly, quickly. "Do you want to... I mean. I didn't want to do this yet, but..." He shook his head, frustrated with himself. Emily squeezed his hand reassuringly, and with her other hand she traced circles on his wrist. It felt intimate, and it didn't help his concentration... "I'm sorry," he said, very quietly. "I don't know what I'm... I don't know if I'm messing this up. I don't want..."

Emily tilted her head to one side and said, "Do you want to go somewhere else to talk? My place? Yours?" She paused, realising that might be a bit forward, especially if what he was trying to say was that he didn't want things to go any further. "Um... The car?"

Hotch gave a kind of strangled laugh and said, "My place?"

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**Remember to review if you have time, reviews are my favourite thing :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: As always, I don't own Criminal Minds. I hope you like this chapter - I wrote most of this one before I wrote the rest of it, so I feel like I've been kind of heading toward this point...**

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All the way back to Hotch's, they continued to chat as easily as they had been in the bar. But when they got to his door, the realisation hit them both at the same time. The conversation they'd both been trying to keep on hold was about to happen. Emily started picking at her nails.

"Okay," she said as they sat down on Hotch's sofa with two more beers. "I really, really didn't mean to say anything yet -"

"Neither did I -"

"But it's getting pretty damn hard to ignore." She smiled and angled her body toward him shyly. "I don't… Want…" She dropped her head then looked up at him through her eyelashes. "I don't want this to… Damn, when did I get so inarticulate?"

Hotch laughed, reaching out to take her hand. It was scary how open he felt with her, even with his growing panic about this conversation, and all of the ways it could go terribly wrong. "Emily," he said softly. She looked up properly and smiled, her eyes meeting his and softening. "I realised as soon as you were gone that I was an idiot not to have said it before." He shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. He didn't want to use the word _love_, not yet. "I like this a lot," he said, gesturing at their hands on the sofa. "I like _you_ a lot. I don't know if this is completely insane, or if you feel the same way, or if -"

He stopped in his tracks when he felt Emily's hand at the back of his neck, felt their bodies draw together. His eyes closed as she approached, his hands wandered up her back, and their lips met slowly, softly. She felt soft and warm and beautiful. He pulled her closer, on top of him, shifted them so they were lying down on the sofa together, and the kiss deepened, her lips parting his a little as her hand crept into his hair. His breath caught and he felt her smile. She pulled back and his eyes fluttered open.

Emily tilted her head, lost in looking into his eyes. This openness was something she had only glimpsed before, no matter how hard she tried to encourage it, and to see him gazing at her like this with such tenderness… She wanted to drink in every moment, savour it so she would never forget. "I like this a lot too," she breathed. "I want to try this. I know it's risky and I know… Work… And… But…" She shook her head and dropped her face to his again, the intensity of the moment overwhelming her so she couldn't help but let out a soft moan as they kissed.

Aaron sat up, pulling her with him so that she sat on his lap, straddling him. Her hand caressed his neck and then crept down to remove his tie. He was gripped by hugely conflicting emotions. On the one hand, Emily Prentiss was removing his clothes and there was nothing he wanted more than to touch her, for her to touch him, and he was already blushing at the thought of where this was leading. On the other hand, Emily Prentiss was removing his clothes and there was nothing he wanted _less_ than for her to recoil at the sight of the scars Foyet had left. She had undone two buttons, nuzzling and kissing his neck, when he grabbed her hand and pulled back. "Emily," he said quietly.

"Sorry." Immediately, she dropped her hands to her sides. "We don't have to, if you don't want -"

He shook his head. "Not that. It's not that. I do... I do want this Emily, a lot."

She shivered at the intensity in his voice and met his gaze. "Okay..." she said, urging him to go on.

Absently, he brushed his hand over his abdomen as he said, "I just... I don't want you to be surprised when you see them." He dropped his eyes, looking at her knee pressing into his hip. "There are a lot of scars, and they're..." _Horrifying_, he thought. _Humiliating._ He shook his head.

Emily's stomach twisted at the embarrassment on his face. She gathered herself, smiled, hooked a finger under his chin and lifted his head up so he was looking straight back at her eyes again. "Hotch," she said, then immediately chastised herself. "Aaron." His eyes widened momentarily when she said his name, and she felt a little jolt in his muscles. A shadow of a smile appeared on his face and she wanted nothing more than to grab him and kiss him. But first. "I was dead for seven months," she said slowly, deliberately, willing him to take it in, "because I was stabbed straight through the abdomen with a wooden stake." She raised her eyebrows at him. "You think I look the way I did before?"

He blinked. She would be beautiful. He didn't care about her scars, he just wanted to touch every inch of her skin, to kiss her everywhere, to hold her close and share with her this heat rising inside him... A lump formed in his throat and he did his best to put on his work-face, his mask. He didn't want her to see this. His scars were different, or at least felt different. He looked at them in the morning and he felt humiliated and disgusted. He knew that was what Foyet wanted so he tried to force it to the back of his mind, but it was there, and the thought of her seeing them... So many scars... Like Foyet's... If she was at all disgusted at the sight he would see it in her face no matter how hard she tried to mask it and he couldn't bear that.

Emily watched closely for any emotion betrayed on his face. Eventually she caught it. Something beyond apprehension. Fear. Not of her scars, she saw when she mentioned them that he wouldn't care about that. She shook her head and smiled ruefully. "I can see what I'm going to have to do," she said, sighing theatrically.

She leaned forward and kissed him again, waiting until she felt his body relax, until his hands started to stoke her back and pull her toward him, until he breathed a sigh of pleasure into her mouth, and then she sat back and his eyes followed her hungrily. Slowly, keeping eye contact the entire time, she lifted her own shirt over her head. Swallowing hard, she dropped it to the floor, took his hand and placed it over the knotted mess of a scar on her abdomen. Her own hand rose to the scar on her breast, where the brand had been, and then dropped again.

Aaron held her gaze, felt an overwhelming rush of affection and love and sadness as he brushed his thumb over the raised skin and he couldn't stop the tears forming in his eyes as he thought, _Emily I am so sorry, we should have got there sooner_. Emily held his hand on her scar and with one hand and with the other, reached out to brush her thumb over his cheekbone. "You can look," she said. "And I'll make a deal. If I become disgusting and ugly and somehow less of a person when you see this, then we can assume I'll feel the same about you and we'll call it a day and both go to hell, okay?" A laugh caused a couple of his tears to spill over, and she wiped them away before moving their hands away. "Look," she said softly.

His eyes dropped from her face to her stomach, and he saw the area where her soft, pale skin was knotted and pulled together. It had healed remarkably well for what he knew must have been a horrific, messy wound leaving not a lot of clean, untorn flesh to work with. The scar was sizable, and it was messy, and it stood out against the beautiful landscape of her body, but it was not ugly. It could never be ugly. As his eyes drifted back up, lingering longer on the soft, miraculous curves of her body than on her scar, he cupped his hand behind her neck and kissed her, softly but firmly, trying to convey everything he felt for her. He felt her hands at his chest again, lingering for permission before undoing his buttons. He nodded and pulled her closer to him.

Emily got to the last button as he started kissing her neck and shoulders and the heat rose in her body, almost all-consuming, almost no going back. She broke away, breathing hard, fire in her eyes, and opened his shirt, pushing it down his shoulders. Obediently he worked his arms out of it, dropped his hands to her thighs and just stared at her, nervously awaiting her reaction. Emily traced a finger from his collarbone down his sternum and felt a smile on her lips. She knew he was fit, she knew how strong and muscular he felt when he held her, but my god he looked good. She couldn't believe she was really sitting here in her bra on top of a shirtless Aaron Hotchner. And he was too busy awaiting judgement on his scars to realise how completely beautiful she found him. There _were_ a lot of scars. And a lump rose in her throat when she thought about what they represented. They were more than just marks on skin. But how could he think...? She shook her head and flattened her palm on his chest, over his heart. "Aaron," she said softly. His expression didn't change - he maintained studying, searching eye contact, waiting to analyse her next words for signs that she knew what these scars meant and they disgusted her as much as they disgusted him. He was thoroughly unprepared for what came out of her mouth. "I love you."

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**I'd love if you could take some time to review, I like hearing what you guys think :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: I don't know how many of you will have noticed, but I did when I read it back so I can't not say anything – I realise Hotch's tie made a sudden & unexplained reappearance in the last chapter. It's because I cut a scene in the car. Sorry! Continuity issues aside, I'm sorry it's been a few days since the last one – real life caught up with me, but I'm back! Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Hotch held out his arm as Emily climbed back into bed, wearing nothing but one of his shirts, and pulled the blankets up around them. She curled herself around him, her head on his chest, her leg entwined with his, and sighed happily as her body relaxed into him immediately. The intimacy came so naturally, especially after what had just happened, and it felt blissfully, wonderfully, terrifyingly new. "So," she said shyly, and he felt her smile. "That, um…"

He laughed as his fingers wandered absently up and down her arm. "Yeah," he said. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so relaxed, and honestly it was a little unnerving, but he pushed his anxieties back, trying to keep himself in the here and now, concentrating on the feel of her warm body in his bed, in his shirt. He held her close with the arm that was wrapped around her body and said, "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied softly. A few moments of silence followed, then she said, "Which is kind of a big deal, isn't it?"

"Yes," he said. "It kind of is."

"Aaron?"

Everything he was feeling multiplied when she said his name – the anxiety and the love and the absolute rightness. He wondered vaguely if he would always feel that way. When would his name start to sound anything less than miraculous on her lips? "Yeah?"

"I didn't mean to do this yet," she said. Hastily, she added, "I don't regret it. Not at all. But… I tried to wait, and I… I didn't want your feelings to be influenced by... You know... I was _gone_, like forever gone… You thought you'd never see me again and the last time you _did_ see me I was…"

"I tried to wait too," he admitted. He had a brief internal struggle – he didn't want to upset her, but he didn't want to try so hard to protect her that he couldn't say what he felt. That had been one of his mistakes with Haley, he knew, and it was not necessary with Emily. "But when will that go away?" She shifted a little, moving her head onto his arm so she could look up at his face as he continued, clearly struggling with himself, "When will I stop... Seeing you lying there..." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. You don't need the details. But I think that image will always be with me, and always influence me in some way. I'll always remember running into that room, and the months I spent thinking I'd never see you again, and the moment I realised I'd never forgive myself for not saying anything to you before..." And he hadn't, not really. She had gone after Doyle on her own because she felt alone and desperate and hopeless, and he didn't know if she would have felt that way if he had said something, and he would never know, and the possibility that he could have done something to stop it from happening was excruciating. "I don't think that will ever go away, Emily."

Emily became suddenly very aware of her heartbeat and felt a little lightheaded. She hadn't asked any of the team about when they'd reached her. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, and all things considered it would have been in pretty bad taste to bring it up. She remembered a sudden horrible pressure, blinding, terrible pain, and Morgan's voice. She remembered that she tried so hard to hold onto him but she was starting to feel cold and numb, and she knew she was dying, and she desperately didn't want him to feel guilty. She didn't want to leave him. She tried to hold onto his hand, to keep herself here just a little longer, just long enough, and then she couldn't any more. Then darkness.

Hotch felt her tears on his arm. He turned fully toward Emily, tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed the tears from her face, his lips lingering on her cheeks until he felt her smile a little. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's not that," she said, her voice shaking as she tried hard to regain control of herself. "I'm just… Remembering. Kind of." She remembered the fight often – it was a regular feature of her nightmares. But the nightmare ended when Doyle drove the wood into her abdomen – then she would wake, panting, terrified. She rarely had to deal with this part. "I'm sorry," she said. Hotch started to object, to tell her not to apologise, but she shook her head. "No," she said forcefully. "I mean it Aaron. I'm sorry you had to…" She turned her face into his arm, unable to face the image her mind was creating of him coming into the room and finding her in that state.

He pulled her close, wrapping himself around her as she started to tremble. He was trying as hard as she was to banish the image of her lying there on the floor, beaten up, blood everywhere, and a piece of wood almost the size of her arm sticking grotesquely out of her abdomen. "I'm sorry too, sweetheart," he said into her hair. "It didn't go how any of us wanted it to. But you're here. You made it, and you're here now, and -" He stopped in his tracks. He wanted to say he'd never let her get hurt like that again. But he had promised to protect Haley too. He didn't want to make any more promises he couldn't deliver on. "And that's what matters," he said eventually.

Emily burrowed into his embrace, the word _sweetheart_ spinning around her head, taking the edge off the images and the guilt. She knew he'd been heading in a different direction with that sentence – his pause was too long and his whole tone of voice changed – but she didn't question it. She just nuzzled his head into his chest and said almost inaudibly, "I like being sweetheart."

Hotch smiled. "I'm glad." They shuffled back into their previous position, Emily curling around him, her hand over his heart, and settled into comfortable, sleepy silence. He traced his fingers up and down her back until she started to breathe slowly and deeply. "Goodnight sweetheart," he whispered.

Emily smiled faintly, barely registering his goodnight before she drifted into sleep.

* * *

"You're sure you don't want me to drive you home?" Hotch asked, leaning against the wall as she buttoned up her coat.

"Positive. I'll make it." She smiled, closed the gap between them with a step and gave him a swift, light kiss. "You have fun with Jack, when he gets home. I'll text you tonight."

He nodded and wrapped his arms around her. "If you're positive." He kissed the top of her head, not quite ready to let go of her yet. "Emily?"

"Mm?"

"This is… Real, right? You're not…"

"I'm not going to walk out of this door and never come back?" she said softly. "No, Aaron." She hugged him hard. "It's definitely real. I very much want to try being a couple, and I even think we'll be good at it. If you want that too, then…"

"I do," he murmured into her hair.

"Then I'll text you tonight. I'm glad this happened..." She kissed him again, lingering, his hands closing around her waist and pulling him toward her. She groaned, laughing and pushed back against his chest. "Okay, if I don't go now I never will," she insisted, stepping back and opening the door. "I love you I love you goodbye." He laughed and waved her off. She closed the door behind her and started walking, with the air of a woman trying her very best not to skip and squeal and giggle.

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**Thank you for reading, everybody, and if you could take some time to review that would be amazing. I love reviews, so thank you to everybody who's left them so far :) Team members back in the next chapter.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note: I forgot to mention last time that Criminal Minds is still not mine. It's not though. Thank you everybody for reading, and I hope you enjoy.**

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Emily had just got home and changed and started to settle down on the sofa when her phone rang. Garcia. "Hey," Emily said, answering the phone and stretching her legs, using at least half of her energy to hope this wasn't a case. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's dandy," Garcia replied promptly. "Not a work call, so fear not."

Emily relaxed. "I can't say I'm not relieved," she admitted. "What's up?"

"Oh, you know…" Emily could practically see her fiddling with her jewellery. Smiling, she waited for her to continue. "Okay, I was just having a bit of a moment and I wanted to talk to you to ensure that you are in fact alive and breathing and in the state of Virginia."

"I am all of those things," Emily replied, trying to keep the sadness from her voice. "Cross my heart and -"

"Not funny!" Garcia interjected.

Emily laughed. "Okay, okay. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Garcia said, a little sadly. "I'm okay. This is just super weird, you know?"

"I know," Emily said, leaning her head back and exhaling slowly. Then she brightened. "Hey, do you want to come over? We could call everyone else… I know Hotch just got Jack back from a friend's house today so he probably won't come, but we could invite everyone and… I don't know, bring DVDs, and we can have a movie night? And if everyone else turns us down then all the more takeout and popcorn for us, right? Say around six-ish?"

"Okay, yeah!" Garcia said cheerfully. Then, after a tiny pause, added, "Wait a minute – how do _you_ know Hotch just got Jack back so he won't come over?"

Emily grinned. "So I'll call Hotch, Reid and Rossi if you call Morgan and JJ. See you at six. Bye Garcia."

"Wait! Emily Prentiss don't you dare hang up this -"

Emily hung up, laughing. She called Hotch first, both because she wanted an excuse to call him and because she already knew what his answer would be.

"Hotchner," he said.

She laughed. "You are a real creature of habit, you know that?"

"Sorry," he said, and she heard his smile and couldn't keep a grin from her face. "Did you forget something?"

"No, it's just that Garcia called and we decided we're having a movie night and I wanted to invite you. I know you've got Jack back today and you missed him and it's short notice. So no pressure. But it's good to be invited, right?"

"Right," he said, smiling again. "Thank you for calling. But you're right, Jack and I have big plans for tonight. And you should see the team without me anyway."

"Okay. If you're sure." She paused, closing her eyes and revelling in the ridiculous, overwhelming giddiness she felt. "Love you."

"I love you too. Have fun tonight." She heard Jack say something in the background, and Hotch laughed. "I have to go. I love you. Bye."

"Bye." She was still grinning when she called Rossi. "Hey," she said. "Want to come over to my place tonight? We're having a DVD and food gathering. The food will be unspectacular compared to yours, of course."

"I'm sure it will," he replied, and she could hear his smile. "I'm afraid I have other plans tonight."

"Oh really?" Emily said. "What kind of plans?"

"Classified. Very classified. Thanks for inviting me though. You kids have fun."

She laughed. "You are not that old Rossi."

"Old enough," he replied. "See you at work!"

"Okay, well, enjoy your plans," she said, grinning. She hung up and called Reid next.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Reid, it's me."

"I know. I took the precaution of saving your number." Emily laughed and he added, "What's up, do we have a case?"

"No, no, nothing work-related," she replied. "Garcia and I are planning a movie night at my place tonight. Hotch and Rossi are out, Garcia's calling Morgan and JJ. You in?"

"Oh!" Reid said, and she was pleased to hear a smile in his voice. "Yeah, I'd love to."

"Great!" she said. "My place at around six. Bring a DVD of your choice and some snacks to gain entry."

"I can do that," he laughed. "Thanks, Emily. I'll see you later."

When she hung up this time she had a text from Garcia: '_Morgan and JJ are in. All systems are go. If I come over early we can bake cookies. If i don't come over early I'll bake cookies anyway but you won't get to eat them when they're still hot and gooey. Let me know.'_

* * *

Garcia arrived at five, so completely laden with baking supplies that Emily couldn't help laughing as she opened the door. "Hey," Garcia said, from behind the bags. "There was a sale."

"I see that," Emily replied. She took a couple of bags and let Garcia in, kicked the door shut behind them and led her into the kitchen. "Thanks for coming over."

"Thanks for inviting me," Garcia said, setting the bags down on the floor and starting to unpack them onto the counter.

Emily took her coat and hung it up, becoming aware as soon as she left the room that she had set herself up for another tough conversation, that it was her first off the clock time with Garcia and that gave her the opportunity and responsibility to explain and apologise. She took a steadying breath, straightened her posture and walked back in. "Garcia..."

"Wow, you just put your game face on," Garcia said as soon as she looked up. "Are you okay? Is everything okay?"

"Can we um... Can I talk to you?"

"Of course." Garcia solemnly followed Emily to the sofa and sat down beside her. "But before you say anything..." She reached out and pulled Emily into a hug. Emily closed her eyes, hugging back but trying to keep hold of her emotions. "Okay," Garcia said. "You can talk now."

Emily smiled, swallowed hard, and dropped her hands into her lap, picking at her nails. "I'm sorry," she began.

"Emily, don't -"

"I'm sorry for... For leaving you..." She fixed her eyes firmly on her hands. "For running, for going out on my own and putting the team at risk and not being honest and... I was trying to protect you, but I failed, and I did a lot of... of things... _Really_ wrong... And don't think I don't remember how I treated you before I went, because I do, and I had a long time to think about it, and I am so sorry, Penelope."

"God, Emily," Garcia said softly. "You think I spent _any_ of that time thinking about you snapping at me? Because I assure you, that's not what -"

"I know. I know that's not what you were thinking about, but that's because you thought I was dead... I'm sorry that I hurt you. I didn't just snap at you, I shut down your every attempt to show me that you cared about me... It's like kicking a puppy, Penelope, you were so good and kind and loving, and I couldn't afford to see that because I had to cut and run. Or at least I thought I did. I had to get to him because I couldn't let him get to you. It was me he was after and I knew he'd come after you and I..." She paused, closing her eyes trying to regulate her breathing again.

"Emily," Garcia said again, tears spilling over. "I just... I just missed you. I missed you so much and you were dead, and I forgive you, okay? For all of it. Unconditionally." She started sobbing and Emily immediately reached out and pulled her into a hug.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly. "I know... I'm sorry." She buried her head in Penelope's shoulder, clenched her hand in the fabric between her shoulder blades, the flowery scent calling up memories she couldn't quite place. But they were happy memories. "I'm sorry," she repeated, tears stinging at her own eyes. She fought them hard. Emily did not cry often, especially not in front of people, and she felt like she was doing far too much of it lately, but this was unimaginably hard. She had known it would be tough coming back, but this… She fought the urge to say _I missed you too_ because as much as it was the truest thing in the world, she knew it wasn't the same. Emily had at least had the comfort of knowing her family was alive, at home in the BAU, together and safe. Meanwhile they'd spent seven months mourning her death. Guilt and sadness and love finally overwhelming her, she started to cry too, and Garcia's hold on her tightened.

"We just love you so much, Em," she said, tears still streaming from her eyes onto Emily's shoulder.

"I know," Emily choked. She held Garcia tight, trying to fit _I love you too_ into her hug, because she sure as hell couldn't get it to come out of her mouth right now. They held on tight for ages, trying to fit all of those months of unsaid things into this hug, and to give each other something solid to hold on to. Eventually, Emily started to get a hold of herself. She gave Garcia one last squeeze and said, her voice still shaking, "I'm going to go to the bathroom, okay?"

"Permission granted," Garcia said, still sniffly, but smiling bravely. "I'll get started on the cookies. I think we deserve hot gooey cookies more than ever."

"Agreed."

"And then you can tell me how you know the intimate details of Hotch's schedule." She grinned wickedly as Emily tried and failed to glare at her.

* * *

**Thanks again guys, I appreciate your support :) (Also reviews. I love reviews. Pls.)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: Hello. Criminal Minds is still not mine. Thank you to everybody who's reading :) This is my first fanfic & it's really cool to have people reading & reviewing. I'm excited to keep writing, so thanks :)**

* * *

Half way through the third movie of the night, JJ waited for a loud scene, turned to Emily and said, "Hey, thanks for doing this."

"No problem," Emily replied. "It's good to have everybody here." Which was true. She'd started to get a bit apprehensive about it before they got here. She liked her privacy and kept her home pretty much to herself, but all those months living an empty life, with not even the _option_ of having friends over had turned her around on the subject, at least for now. She looked around the room and couldn't help but smile. They _looked_ like a family right now – Morgan and Garcia on one sofa, the popcorn bowl balanced between their legs, bickering playfully about the artistic value of the car chase, and herself, JJ and Reid on the other, all with shoes kicked off and starting to slouch. Reid watched the chase with a look of intense concentration, and she wondered vaguely what he was trying to figure out, but knew better than to ask. She smiled at JJ, who was looking at her a little nervously. "You okay?" she whispered.

JJ nodded with a slight smile and turned back to the film.

* * *

Reid started, broken out of his attempts to figure out whether what had just happened was possible within the laws of physics, when he felt JJ's head rest on his shoulder. She must have felt his jolt. "Is this okay?" she asked. "I'm getting sleepy."

"Of course," he said. She was still being careful around him, still asking for permission and approval for things she'd normally take for granted. He couldn't decide whether or not it was necessary, which he took to mean that it probably still was. Although they were patching things up, their relationship was nothing like it had been before, and he still wasn't sure he'd ever trust her like that again. But her body leaning into his as they watched a movie felt okay. Even kind of nice. He tilted his head sideways, resting it on top of hers. He thought he felt her smile.

* * *

Once they had all fallen asleep on each other and woken up to the sound of the menu screen looping obnoxiously, everyone started to say their goodbyes and exchange hugs and leave. Emily hugged them all hard, feeling profoundly grateful to have them in her life. After everyone else had left, Reid hung back, and Emily knew it was intentional. She watched him linger, putting things into his bag and taking them back out, rearranging again and again, and she wasn't sure what to do. Eventually, she said, "Reid." He froze and turned around guiltily and she smiled. "I'm glad you came," she said.

"Me too," he replied, smiling back a little nervously.

She nodded, then waited. He was obviously waiting to say something, and as much as she wanted to apologise to him, she knew he wouldn't have hung back for that. She had to let him speak first.

He stared back for a few moments then smiled self-consciously and sat back down. She followed his lead, sitting beside him. "Emily…" He glanced at her then looked away again immediately. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course," Emily said, angling her body toward him, so that he could see she was paying attention even if he couldn't look at her. She touched his arm lightly then dropped her hands into her lap. "Anything."

"After your um..." He heard his voice shake and stopped, took a deep breath and started again, staring at his corduroy-covered knees. "After your funeral, I went home on my own, and... I don't know, I just wanted to forget. It hurt so bad and I couldn't imagine it ever _stopping_, you know? You were the only one I'd told about my... My headaches and... And then one just hit me, and it hurt so bad, and missing you hurt, and... I felt so alone, and the pain was totally overwhelming, and I couldn't stop seeing... It doesn't matter _what_, but the point is there were these images in my head I couldn't get rid of and that terrifies me…" He glanced up at her through his eyelashes, saw that her eyes were shining and she was biting her lip, and looked straight back down. "I'm sorry," he said. She squeezed his arm and he leaned into her touch a little. "I was so close to taking dilaudid, Emily. _This_ close. I knew it would make me forget and I didn't want to forget you, but I wanted to forget how much it hurt, and… That's why... Well, that's _one_ of the reasons I was so... Um... Why I took it so badly when you came back. I felt so scared and alone when you left that I nearly went back there, I could have lost everything, and then you were just..."

"Reid?"

"Yeah?"

"Just..." Emily pulled him toward her, wrapped her arms tightly around him and held him as close and as hard as she could. He submitted gratefully to the hug, holding her just as tight. "I'm really, really sorry," she said. He nodded as he hugged her back. "I'm sorry I did that to you. I'm sorry I left you." She wanted to say _you weren't alone_. She wanted to tell him the team had been right there for him, but considering the things she had done because she felt alone and hopeless... She settled for present tense. "You're not alone, okay? I'm right here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

"Is that true?" Reid whispered, his body starting to tighten with the effort to keep his voice steady.

"I promise," she whispered back, rubbing his back to let him know he could relax if he wanted to.

He nodded. "It still feels different."

"I know," she said. "It feels different for me too. I think we're all different…" She rested her head on his shoulder as his hands wrapped all the way around her.

"What if it's never the same?" he said quietly. "What if it never gets easier…"

She didn't have an answer for that. She squeezed her eyes shut then sat back and looked at him steadily. She hoped he'd learn to trust her again. But she had to earn it, and just being an ear for his worries wasn't good enough. When Reid had told her about his headaches, he'd asked her what was going on with her because he'd noticed she was picking her fingernails. She hadn't told him, even though he had just told her his biggest secret. Morgan had promised her that no matter how bad she thought it was, she wasn't alone and they could help her, and she had brushed him off. She'd kept it to herself because she thought if she handled it herself then her team didn't have to be in danger, but she had been wrong. They'd never leave her alone with something like that. She had learnt her lesson. She had to learn to trust people. She had to share. Reid deserved that. "Can I tell you… What I'm afraid of?" she said, after a long pause.

"Of course," Reid said. "Always."

"What if…" She exhaled hard, trying to convince herself it made sense to say this out loud. She hoped it didn't sound crazy. "What if Emily Prentiss really did die?" she said, almost aggressively. "I spent seven months as somebody else, somebody with… No friends and no life… I was just hiding and surviving. And then I came home, to you guys, but what if it's too late? I mean, I _died_. You grieved for me and… I was gone. What if I can't come back? What if I can't be _me_ again? What if I have to stay the way I was in Paris?"

She didn't realise until she dragged her eyes back to his that she had been looking wildly around the room. He didn't bother hiding the shock he felt at seeing the pleading look on her face. "Emily…" he said.

Her eyes teared up but she refused to cry. Not this time. She just stared at him, waiting for his answer, dreading it.

"I don't know what to tell you," he said quietly. "I don't know how to show you that it's… It's hard to adjust and we all had to try so hard to let you go so we could still function, and now we have to try to let go of _that_… We still have… _I_ still have all the feelings I had about your death and now all these other things I feel about JJ keeping it from me, and everything in between… But you're still you, Emily. We've all changed but you're still our Emily. Does that make any sense?" He hesitated then added, "He can't take that from you, Emily. He didn't take that."

Emily felt her eyes widen a little as the words hit her. "Thanks," she said. "I hope you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Reid replied, smiling widely.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I love reviews - hint hint ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: Criminal Minds still not mine; love you guys for reading, & hope you like this chapter. Thank you :)**

* * *

"We need to talk about how we handle this at work. We're back tomorrow morning." Hotch's voice was soft as he spoke into the phone. It was seven thirty – Jack was in bed already but probably not quite asleep yet, and he didn't want to disturb him.

"I know," Emily replied, her stomach twisting. If anything was going to change his mind about their relationship, it would be this, and she couldn't stop the anxiety bubbling within her. She couldn't bring herself to say anything else.

"Emily…"

His voice was hesitant, nervous, and she felt tears sting at her eyes. He was turning back. She had fallen for him long before, but now she'd told him, and opened herself up and made herself vulnerable, she didn't know how she could go back. She didn't know what she'd do if she had to let him go now. She bit her lip, so determined not to let him hear her cry that she couldn't make a sound.

"Emily? Are you there?"

He just sounded worried now. As if she'd hang up on him. As if she could. "Yeah," she managed.

"Good," he breathed. "Are you okay?"

She tried to reply, but the words caught in her throat and she had to hold the phone at arm's length to stop him from hearing her barely suppressed sob. She took a few deep breaths, and when she put the phone back to her ear, he was saying, "Emily? Emily, please…"

"M'here," she managed. She took a couple more deep breaths, imagining she was on a case, pushing back her emotions to deal with the unpleasant task at hand. She'd find a way to deal. She always found a way. "Still here." Her voice sounded harsh in her ears, and she had to push back hard again to stop it from hurting her.

He was silent for a few seconds. "Sweetheart, this is too hard on the phone. Are you able to come over? If not, I could bundle Jack up in the car and come to you…" Of course he wouldn't break up with her on the phone. He was a gentleman.

"No," she said flatly. "Let him sleep. I'll come over." She hung up.

* * *

Aaron Hotchner was pacing. Emily had said she'd come over and immediately hung up. Her answers on the phone were so short he couldn't read anything in them, until they had become so harsh that they stung. He should have given her more time. If he'd waited longer, if he'd given her more time before asking her to dinner, she would have made a more informed decision, and they wouldn't be at this point. She regretted it. He had opened himself up, made himself completely vulnerable, and now she was turning back. He couldn't blame her. He'd called to talk about what to say to the team tomorrow, and what to say to Strauss, and he didn't blame her for turning back at this point. The BAU was her dream and he would not stand in the way of that. But it hurt. In fact it made him want to claw his eyes out. He ran his hands distractedly over his chest, over the evidence of just how completely he had fucked up in the past, and waited for her to knock his door and tell him it was a mistake.

* * *

She took a deep breath and knocked the door. It opened immediately, as if he had been waiting on the other side. She stood for a few seconds, stunned by his sudden appearance, then said, "Hey." Tension was written in the lines of his face, but there was something else in his eyes that she wouldn't let herself try to interpret. Looking at his eyes was pretty much out of the question if she wanted to retain any kind of composure.

He stepped back to let her inside, not trusting himself to say anything. If he wanted to hold on to any dignity, if he wanted to be able to look her in the eye at work tomorrow, his mask was vital. But it was so hard to keep it on when all he wanted to do was hold her. He closed the door gently, taking far longer than necessary, and when he turned back to her she was mirroring his granite expression. They froze there for at least a minute.

Emily turned away in frustration. Glaring at each other in the hallway was getting them nowhere, and she was starting to lose her resolve. She had to compose herself. But the second she turned her back she felt his hand at her elbow, spinning her back to him, and the touch surprised her enough to throw her off guard so she didn't fight against it. In fact she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to the fabric of his shirt. Before she knew what was happening, he had one hand in her hair and one wrapped around her waist, holding her to him, and she was breathing in the scent of him, blinking rapidly.

"Emily, please," he heard himself say. Then he stopped, because he was on the verge of tears and he absolutely refused to cry. She froze, the quiver in his voice breaking something inside of her. She stepped back and dragged her eyes up to meet his, with a sinking feeling in her stomach. The stone cold expression was gone. His eyes were wide, and shining, and pained. She opened her mouth, changed her mind, and closed it again, staring at him. "Emily," he said again, his voice strangled.

Scrambling to process this sudden change in his emotions, she felt a horrible shame creep over her as she realised what she had done. "Oh God, Aaron… I – I thought… I didn't…" Her eyes wide, she reached up and rested a trembling hand on his neck, brushing her thumb over his tense jawline. "Aaron I'm sorry. I completely… Oh God…"

Without a word, because he still didn't trust himself to produce sound, he took her hand and led her into the living room, suddenly aware of the general ache settling over him. He was tired and tense and he felt like he had been standing in the hallway for as long as he could remember. He sat down on the sofa, pulling Emily with him. He allowed himself one deep breath before settling back and opening his arms. She folded herself into them and he held her tight, rearranging their bodies so they were lying down together, his body curled protectively around hers. Both trembling, they lay there in silence for several minutes, thinking very similar thoughts about how stupid and reflexive and self-destructive their doubts were. "Aaron I'm sorry," Emily said eventually.

He shifted her hair from her ear and whispered, "I'm sorry too. I love you." His arms tightened around her. "I want to do this. When you were so distant on the phone I just assumed… I was so sure you had come to your senses and…"

"My senses," she grumbled. "No chance of that. I'm an idiot."

"Maybe a bit," he agreed in a low voice, kissing behind her ear.

She moaned softly, surprised it was possible to feel this tingle when she felt so utterly stupid and guilty. "We need to talk," she said, concentrating hard on keeping her voice even, "about how to tell people at work. And when."

"I know," he replied, his breath warm and gentle on her neck. "I was thinking. If we're sure. Which I am… Then the only fair thing to do is just tell them."

She breathed a sigh of relief. She'd been hoping he wouldn't suggest hiding their relationship. She didn't want to be hidden, and she didn't want to have to hide him, and she knew the team would know something was up. It'd be a distraction – it was only fair that they knew. "Agreed," she said. "And Strauss?"

He sighed. "I'll deal with her. Sources say she'll be lenient."

"Sources?" she asked, brushing her fingers up and down his arm, allowing herself to start enjoying their closeness.

"Sources," he repeated, soothed by her touch, starting to feel fully himself again. "Stay with me tonight?"

"Of course."

* * *

**I hope you don't hate me for this. Thank you all for reading :) Reviews would be lovely.**


	12. Chapter 12

Emily's stomach flipped as Hotch opened his office door and called into the bullpen, "Prentiss?" Reid, Morgan and JJ shot her concerned looks as she got up and headed for his office, avoiding their eyes. He let her in and closed the door behind them. He'd had the foresight to shut the blinds before inviting her in, because he knew they'd be watching now, worried about her, and closing the blinds with them watching would only add to that. He smiled reassuringly and touched her arm as he gestured to the chair opposite his, and they both sat down. "I called and requested a meeting with Strauss. I'm meeting her in forty minutes."

Emily's eyebrows shot up. "That's, um… She fit you in pretty fast, huh?"

"I told her I had something to share with her about the dynamic of the team," he replied, studying her face for any sign of uncertainty. He reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it lightly. "If you tell me you're sure you want to go through with this, I'll tell her about our relationship. If not, I'll update her on how the team is handling your return."

"I want to go through with it," Emily said without hesitation. "I want you – I want this. If I have to move to a different team, I'm willing to do that."

"We'll cross that bridge if we get to it," Hotch replied. She nodded nervously. "You're sure?" he asked again.

"I'm sure."

"Okay. Then I'd like to tell the team before Strauss, if you think that's…?" She nodded, and he said, "Okay. Get everyone in the conference room."

She nodded again and stood up to leave.

"Hey," he said, and she turned back. He got up and came toward her, his hand on her arm. "You're doing a lot of nodding. It's worrying me. Are you okay?"

She started to nod then laughed. "Yes," she said. "I promise. I'm not the over-compliant type. I'm just nervous about this. It's a big deal." She leaned her head against his shoulder briefly and said, "I just really want this to work."

He kissed the top of her head and said, "I do too. And that's as good a start as any."

Smiling, she said, "See you in the conference room."

* * *

"What's up – do we have a case?" Reid said, as the team entered the conference room.

"Nothing I know about," Garcia said, concerned. Either this was a case that had come directly to Hotch – never a good sign – or it was something else entirely, and the thought of that just made her nervous.

They sat around the table, Emily gripping her forearms to stop herself from picking her nails. As soon as everyone was seated, Hotch said, "This isn't a case. There's something personal that you all need to know. It's nothing bad," he added, as Garcia's eyes widened in fear.

Emily looked up, meeting his eyes, her anxiety so overwhelming she could barely identify it as an emotion. He raised his eyebrows very slightly in a silent question, and she nodded just as subtly. "Emily and I are in a relationship," he said, his tone businesslike but his expression betraying the barest hint of a smile – more a softening of his features than anything. "It's important that we know about the changes in personal relationships within the team, and we wanted to tell you before we go through official channels. We'll keep it out of the office and out of cases as far as possible." He realised his hands were in fists and unclenched them – it was a tell, he knew.

Emily blushed furiously as she felt more than saw JJ and Garcia grin at her. Rossi looked at Hotch with raised eyebrows and a knowing smile. Hotch smiled a little, and Rossi winked. When Emily looked up again, it was at Reid. He was smiling. "Congratulations," he said, and she was relieved to hear his tone was open, genuine.

Garcia, JJ and Rossi echoed the sentiment, and both Hotch and Emily tried to remain reasonably professional as they murmured their thanks. Then Emily forced herself to look at Morgan, and her heart sank. He was angry. "Morgan -" He shook his head, stood up and left the room. Feeling all of the happiness leak from her body, she said, "Should I talk to him?"

"Give him time," Rossi said soothingly. "You know he has issues with trust. This is going to change things. He'll adjust." He gave Emily a reassuring smile and said, "I'm happy for you two. A little more love in the world is always cause for celebration."

When Hotch dismissed them from the conference room, he gave them some time to work things through, telling them they could get back to work after his meeting with Strauss. Rossi followed Reid down to the bullpen, where Morgan was sitting glaring at his computer. "Um, Garcia?" Emily said, nodding toward Morgan. "I think the boys might want some privacy. Can we… Join you in your office?"

"Why of course!" Garcia said linking one arm through Emily's and one through JJ's. "Come and enjoy the wonders of the bat cave."

* * *

"I just think you're being kind of unreasonable," Reid said.

"Unreasonable?" Morgan said, a little too loudly. "Reid, this will change _everything_ about the way this team works."

"You think they should ignore their feelings for one another?" Rossi said. "After what they've both been through, you think it's right for them to pretend not to love each other?"

Morgan glared at him. "She only just got back. This will change -"

"Would you rather they'd waited until we'd already settled back into a rhythm _then_ started seeing each other?" Rossi asked. When Morgan didn't reply, he said, "This way at least the rhythm we get into is the one we keep playing to, right?"

"I agree," Reid said. "At least this way we won't have to change everything twice."

"And what if it goes wrong?" Morgan shot back. "Then what?"

"Then we'll deal with it," Rossi said firmly. "What this comes down to is whether or not we trust Hotch and Emily to be professional about this, and I do. I know you don't trust easily, Morgan, but they've proven themselves to you a hundred times over. They've shown us what they're willing to do to protect this team, and I know you haven't forgotten. They won't let this hurt the team."

Morgan looked at Reid. Quietly, Reid said, "I agree, Morgan. I won't deny that I'm having some issues with trust since everything that happened, but _everything_ Emily and Hotch did was to protect the team. My issues are personal, and I think yours are too." He thought of Emily stepping in and taking Cyrus's beating to protect him in Colorado, of the countless times Hotch had defended them against people higher up in the Bureau. "We have no reason not to trust them."

* * *

"Morgan hates me," Emily said, leaning against Garcia's desk and dropping her chin to her chest.

Wrapping an arm around Emily's shoulders, JJ said, "Em, he'll get over it. You know how he is with change. And trust. And control. All you can do is give him time, show him that it'll be okay." Emily nodded, and JJ hesitated before adding, "Any idea how it'll go with Strauss?"

Emily shrugged. "Hotch seems confident," she said, "but I'm not sure why."

"Well then," Garcia said. "It's going to be okay, isn't it? He knows her better than we do – if she was going to be a dragon about it he'd know, and he wouldn't lie to you."

Emily smiled as she took in the hope on Garcia's face. "Yeah. I trust him. He doesn't lie." She realised if that were true she'd be dead, and added, "I mean -"

"We know," JJ said, squeezing her shoulder. "We trust him too."

Garcia nodded fervently. "And you guys are going to be great together," she added, a soft smile spreading on her face. "I know we were teasing and pushing and stuff, but you really are." She paused. "You love him?"

"Yes," Emily said, without hesitation.

"Then it's going to be just fine."

* * *

"And Agent Hotchner."

"Ma'am."

"You know why I'm making the decision to keep this within the Unit."

"Yes ma'am."

Strauss leaned forward, regarding Hotch steadily. "And you know what you have to do to keep it that way."

Hotch nodded once. "Yes ma'am. It's important to Agent Prentiss and I that we don't upset the balance of the team."

Strauss inclined her head. "Then you may go. If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't let it go like this. Use your best judgement, Aaron. I'll be keeping a close eye on your cases."

"Thank you ma'am."

* * *

Emily sat in Hotch's office, biting her already ragged nails and tapping her foot in no particular rhythm. They had gone for it, they had opened the can of worms and now all she could do was wait to see if it would pay off. She blew out a breath, steadying herself, and sat on her hands to stop herself from picking any more. Her head snapped up to the office door as it started to open.

* * *

**Thank you for reading & thanks for all the reviews so far. I love hearing what you guys think :)**

**(I don't own Criminal Minds.)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note: Hello! I had a bit of trouble figuring out where to go with this chapter but I like it now. I hope you do too. Enjoy :)**

* * *

Hotch closed the door behind him and Emily's eyes met his, searching. "We're clear," he said immediately, no desire to keep her waiting. "She's going to be keeping a close eye for a while to make sure we're keeping work time professional, but we're clear." He stood in front of her and held his hands out. She took them in hers and stood up, looking stunned.

"Are you serious?" she breathed, brushing her thumbs over his knuckles. "That easy?"

Hotch allowed himself a smile. "I'm serious. I think she has learnt to trust this team. We're not the easiest team to manage by a long shot, but for all the same reasons she understands that we're not likely to make our relationship a problem."

Emily took a moment to take this in, squeezing his fingers lightly. "We're too loyal to the team," she said. "We'd do anything to keep the team together and safe. That's why we're such a monumental pain in the ass and why we won't screw this up if we can help it." Finally, a grin spread across her face as relief and excitement began to floor her body. "I can't believe it!"

Her smile was infectious. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, her hands sliding under his suit jacket. "I love you, Emily."

"I love you too."

They broke apart, still grinning, and then there was a knock at the door. Hotch leaned against his desk and Emily sat down as he said, "Come in." The door opened a few inches and Garcia's face appeared in the crack, looking anxious. "Come all the way in," he said.

"Not until you tell me if it's good or bad news, sir," she replied.

"Good news."

"Oh thank god!" she said, and the door swung open to reveal the giant bouquet of red and purple flowers and bottle of champagne she held. "I'm so glad, because you guys deserve all of the happiness in the world, and we deserve to keep you both." She paused, looked them over and added, "We get to keep you both, right?"

"Yes, you do," Hotch said, smiling. "Thank you, Garcia."

Emily got up and hugged her hard, Garcia's side of the hug impeded by the gifts she was still holding. Emily looked up and blinked a few times to disperse the tears pooling in her eyes and stepped back and took the flowers. "I'll go get something to put these in," she said briskly, and left.

Garcia smiled shyly and held the champagne out to Hotch. He took it, still smiling. She didn't think she'd seen him smile for this long all at once, ever, and it tugged her heartstrings. She kind of wanted to bat Morgan over the head with the bouquet. What could possibly be wrong with two people they loved making each other happy? What could be so wrong with something that could make Hotch smile and Emily blush? "Congratulations, sir," she said, and touched his arm lightly before turning to leave.

"Penelope," he said. She turned toward him again, and he met and held her gaze for a couple of seconds before saying, "Thank you."

Bubbling with emotion, she gave him another smile. "You're most welcome. I'll be arranging a celebration, once Mr Grumpy Pants ceases to live up to his name."

* * *

Emily came back with the flowers in a vase full of water, knocking the door lightly and waiting for Hotch's reply before coming in, closing the door behind her. "Hey," she said. "Can we leave these in here for now?"

He gestured to an empty space on his desk and said, "Go ahead." She put them down and he said, "You okay?"

"Of course," she replied. "I'm good. This is just… Completely… I didn't expect… It's…" She rolled her eyes and Hotch laughed. "I'm obviously not ready for coherence. I'm going to get back to work now."

He nodded. "That's probably a good idea. Just make sure you don't write up consults like that."

She glared at him, laughed, and then left. He gazed after her for a few seconds then got back to his paperwork, a soft smile still on his lips. Work was pretty much dealt with, if Morgan could be trusted to come round. Now all he had to do was figure out how to introduce Emily to Jack without freaking either of them out.

* * *

Emily sat at her desk writing up a consult, chancing occasional glances around at the other members of the team. Apart from Morgan, everybody seemed normal, maybe even edging toward unusually upbeat. But Morgan looked pissed. Every time she looked up to see him scowling at his screen, one hand balled in a fist on his desk, her heart sank all over again. _Stop it Emily_, she thought. _Focus_. She forced her mind away from Morgan, away from the team, even away from Hotch, and back to the file in front of her. It was pretty textbook, and she was almost sure her analysis was accurate, but since she was feeling a little distracted she figured it was better to have someone check it over for her before giving it to Hotch. She looked around, trying to figure out who was least busy. "Hey, Reid?" she said. Reid looked up and she gestured to her screen. "Can you come and have a look at this for me? I could use a second pair of eyes."

"Sure, of course," Reid said, and wheeled his desk chair over to join her at her desk.

Almost as soon as he'd opened the file at the first page, however, Hotch's office door swung open and he called, "Conference room please." His face was set and serious. Definitely a case.

Emily chanced another glance at Morgan. He'd taken on a stony, unreadable expression, and he walked past her and headed for the stairs without even looking in her direction. She turned to Reid and he shrugged helplessly. She sighed, and they headed toward the conference room, steeling themselves.

* * *

Hotch looked around at his team after he and Garcia briefed them on the case. Three young men abducted in the past three weeks, two of whom had already turned up recently tortured, killed and severely mutilated a week after they were reported missing. The most recent victim had been missing for two days.

"He's not consistent with his torture," Emily said. "He's all over the place – burns, electricity, whips… Chemical burns on the second victim but not on the first… He's still figuring out what he likes."

"He's figured out the killing part though – he knows he likes stabbing," Reid offered. "None of the wounds on the first victim appear hesitant. I'd bet either he's been planning that part for longer and the torture is a more recent notion, or else he's stabbed somebody before and realised he got something out of it, and that's what led him to take these men. If that's the case then it's likely he stabbed a male victim and that's the source of the gender preference."

Hotch nodded. "That could be a start. Okay, we'll discuss it on the jet. It's a long flight so we should get going. Garcia, check for anything the three victims have in common – same school, same jobs, places they liked to go, anything, and look into unsolved stabbings in the area – not necessarily fatal. Wheels up in thirty minutes." As the team started to get ready, he said, "Morgan, do you have a minute?"

The rest of the team scuttled out of the conference room at once, leaving Hotch and Morgan alone.

"Hotch, with all due -"

Hotch held up a hand. "Morgan, I won't keep you long. I understand your concerns. But there is nothing we can do except prove to you that it's going to be okay, and nothing you can do except give us the chance to do that. This is new to all of us, but the team is and always has been our priority. I need your head in this case."

Morgan glared. "My head will _be_ in the case, Hotch."

"Good," Hotch said firmly. Without another word, Morgan turned and left.

When Hotch left the conference room a few minutes later, Emily was hovering nervously at her desk, looking up at the door. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but he wasn't quite convinced. She smiled back.

* * *

**Thank you for reading, and thank you for all of your reviews so far! I'd love to hear what you think. This will be the first case I've written - feels like opening a great big can of worms but I'm quite looking forward to writing it. Anyhow, reviews pleeease :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note: Hello! (I don't own Criminal Minds.) Okay so this is a little late for a few reasons. (1) I'm so much less motivated with fewer reviews, which I didn't expect & feel a little silly about. (2) I've had a giant amount of work this past week for real life stuff. & (3) I want to write the team on a case & I want it to be clear what's going on but I want the focus to be on the team more than the case & that's proving a pretty hard balance for me to strike. Anyway, I hope you like this, I'll hopefully have the next one up soon. Reviews would be super good :)**

* * *

They hadn't been in the air long when Garcia's face appeared on the laptop open on the table. "Okay, so there are like a bajillion unsolved stabbings in the area we're looking at in the past two months alone, so I looked at the week directly before our first victim was abducted for male victims between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, like our guys."

"And?" Emily prompted.

"And there were a lot. Mostly gang stuff, drug stuff… But there was this one guy Robbie Carmichael – eighteen years old, straight A student, buses tables, volunteers at an animal shelter, the works – who reported that he was just walking home from his friend's house in the evening when a guy jumped out of a doorway and stabbed him. I'm sending his case file to you now – he said the attacker wore a ski mask so he couldn't see what he looked like, but he's pretty sure his eyes were blue or green, definitely not dark."

"In a ski mask, at night?" Morgan said. "We can't be sure that's accurate."

"That's what's kind of icky and why I think this guy might be of use to you," Garcia replied. "He was stabbed twice – he said that first the unsub just stabbed him, straight in, straight out, and then started to run, but then he…" She shuddered and swallowed hard. "He came back. He started to run away but then he came back when Robbie was on the ground and stabbed him again… Slower… And looked into his eyes the whole time. He didn't run until he started to pass out. Does that sound like the kind of thing..?"

"Yes," Hotch said, his face tense. "That sounds exactly like the kind of thing we're looking for. We should speak to him. What about connections between the victims?"

"Nothing so far sir."

"Okay. Keep looking, let us know if you get anything. Thank you Garcia."

She nodded, and waved, and she was gone. "We need to talk to Robbie Carmichael," Hotch said. "Something that happened that night explains why our unsub escalated from stabbing and running to torture." He hesitated before splitting up the team. His first instinct was for himself and Emily to talk to Robbie, but he knew he couldn't pair them on this one. "Prentiss and Reid, you handle that. Morgan and JJ, you go to the most recent dump site. Dave and I will go to the station and start talking to the families, see if we can find a connection between the victims. We need to know how he's targeting them."

He sat back and his posture slumped a little as they spread out, getting comfortable for the long flight. Emily glanced at him and took in the darkness in his expression as he avoided her eyes. She stayed opposite Hotch and pulled the case files toward her, opening the one Garcia had sent on her tablet. She read everything through once, making sure everyone was otherwise occupied before looking back up at him. He was staring at the tablet in front of him. There was a file open, but his eyes weren't moving. "Hey," she said softly. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, pushing back the image of the blackness washing over his vision as Foyet knelt over him. Then he looked up and saw how intensely she was staring at him, and a tiny smile touched his lips as he said, "It's okay. I'm okay."

She held his gaze for a few more seconds then nodded and looked back down at her tablet.

* * *

By the time they left Robbie Carmichael's house, Emily and Reid were convinced their unsub had been the stabber. Emily called Hotch in the car as she drove herself and Reid back to the station. "Hotch, it was him," she said. "It had to be. We did a cognitive interview. Robbie couldn't hear everything the unsub was saying because he was starting to pass out, but he remembered stuff about power, he told him to beg, forced him to look at him... He's certain about light coloured eyes. That might help us count people out once we get a suspect pool."

"Okay," he said tightly. "I'll see you at the station. Dave and I are still talking to the families but we've almost exhausted everything they can give us, and Morgan and JJ are on their way back from the dump site, so we'll regroup and discuss what we've found."

"Got it. Bye." She hung up, and glanced over when she felt Reid watching her. "What?"

"Nothing," Reid replied. "I was just thinking about you and Hotch. You seem… The same as before."

"We won't let it affect work," she replied.

"I know," he said. "I trust you."

She glanced over again and he was smiling at her. Smiling back, she said, "Thank you." She drove in silence for a while and then said very quietly, "You think Morgan ever will?"

Startled by her dropping her work voice, Reid said, "Will what?"

"Trust us," she said. "Do you think he'll ever trust us?"

"Oh," Reid said. He paused, considering her question, then said, "Yes. I think he will. But I don't know when."

She nodded.

* * *

By ten that night they were no further forward. They sat around a table in the room they'd been given by the local PD with case files and takeout cartons scattered everywhere, staring at the evidence board. They'd gone over what they had and didn't have countless times, and everyone was starting to look despondent. Hotch couldn't let them carry on like this, and it wasn't getting them anywhere. "Let's go and get some rest," he said. "We'll come back to this fresh in the morning."

Everyone looked for a couple of seconds like they might object, but they had to admit defeat for tonight. Emily and JJ drove to the hotel together. "This is so frustrating," JJ said, running her hand through her hair and throwing her head back. "We must be missing something."

"I know," Emily agreed. "But we'll find it. We'll get him."

"We only have until Friday. And we have nothing."

"Not nothing. Just not enough yet. We'll get him," Emily repeated. But she knew what was going unspoken between them. The unsub tortured his victims for the whole week he had them. The newest victim would be the same. They had until Friday to find him alive, but he would be in much better condition physically and psychologically if they found him before that.

* * *

They met the rest of the team in the hotel lobby, and collected their keys and headed for their rooms, too run down from spending an entire, barely productive day together to say much to each other. "Goodnight," Hotch said in the corridor as they split off for their separate rooms. "Get some rest."

Everyone mumbled their goodnights and headed for their rooms, and Emily stopped Hotch in the doorway. Their rooms were next door to each other – his adjoining Rossi's and hers adjoining JJ's – and she wasn't ready to sleep. "Hey," she said. "Is it okay if I come in for a few minutes?"

With a sigh of relief, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him as they stepped through the door. With the door closed behind them, he wrapped her up in his arms and breathed in the smell of her hair as she held him tightly. "Are you okay?" she asked, her words muffled by his jacket.

"Yeah," he said. "I think so."

She nodded and sat down cross legged on his bed as he took off his jacket and tie and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He sat down beside her and said, "I know it's stupid."

"What is?"

"That I see myself in the victims. They're a _lot_ younger than me, no particular physical type… And so often we see women who look so much more like…"

"Like me," Emily said, when he seemed unable to finish the sentence. "Or like JJ. I know. But that doesn't mean you're not going to be affected by it sometimes."

"It's the way he's stabbing," Hotch said. "That's what's bugging me. The way he wants them to look at him, the things he said to Robbie. It's not worse than what we've seen before, I know that, but…"

Emily nodded and took his hand. "But it's getting to you," she said. "That's okay." She knew she didn't have the full story of what had happened when Foyet had been in Hotch's apartment, and she wasn't about to ask him again. She made it her policy to only ask him anything personal once – if he didn't want to share, he wouldn't, and if he wanted to some other time then he'd remember. If she bugged him about it he'd close off. "Is there something I can do?"

He pulled her toward him and hugged her close again. "This helps."

Smiling, she hugged back and she felt some of the tension begin to leave their bodies. She got half way through saying 'I love you' before he lowered her back onto the bed and pressed his lips to hers, propping himself up on his forearms. She responded hungrily, biting his lip gently as her hand crept into his hair, her fingertips brushing the sensitive skin behind his ear. He moaned softly, then pulled back and met her eyes, trying to steady himself. "We can't do this."

"I know," she sighed. She pushed back playfully on his chest, and he rolled onto his back and pulled her with him, her head on his chest. "You want me to stay here until you fall asleep?"

He looked down at her, finding himself surprised at such a caring gesture offered so casually. His first instinct was to say yes, because he could feel the darkness creeping over him as the crime scene photos combined with his vivid memories. And the warmth of her in bed with him made it so much less frightening. But this case was their chance to prove to Morgan that they weren't going to let their relationship interfere with work. "We shouldn't."

"Okay," she said. "It's okay. Call me if you need me though, okay? Don't just lie here awake on your own. I know what it's like when cases get under your skin, and… Just don't _choose_ to do it alone." She sat up and looked closely at his face, trying to figure out whether he'd actually be able to swallow his pride and wake her up to ask her to come back. "Do we have a deal?"

He smiled. "Yes," he said. "Deal."

* * *

**Thank you for reading – sorry it took so long! It's pretty long too. The next chapter should be up quicker. Reviews would be good please :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter guys :) & thank you for all your support so far! I hope you're liking it. Almost time to meet Jack - if you have any ideas about that, let me know :)**

* * *

Emily stretched out over her side of the bed, tucking her phone under the other pillow. She found herself grinning as she thought of that side as _his side_, closing her eyes and letting the feeling of being in love with such a ludicrously wonderful man wash over her. It felt like first love, and maybe it was. Lauren had been in love before, but Emily hadn't, not really. And as soon as she thought of that, slowly the rest of her current reality crept back toward her. Morgan's anger. Losing his trust all over again. The photos of the victims, tortured and mutilated beyond recognition. The drivers' license photo of Daniel Bell, the most recent victim they were no closer to saving. Her own vague imaginings of the demons Hotch was fighting right now. She exhaled hard, tossed and turned a few times, then got down to compartmentalising. She paid attention to one anxiety at a time, visualising it, bringing it forward, tucking it into a box, then pushing it right back until it was tiny in her mind's eye. She had learnt these techniques a long time ago and they had served her well. She allowed herself to keep one image: Hotch's eyes burning into hers as he leaned in to kiss her. Closing her eyes, she rolled onto her side and fell asleep quickly.

* * *

He woke gasping for breath, tangled in his sheets and sweating. Foyet's voice whispered in his ear, the nightmare refusing to fade as quickly as it usually did these days. He felt sick, and for a moment thought he might actually throw up. He sat up and forced himself to breathe properly until the feeling passed, trying to take in as much of the reality of the hotel room as he could to push the memories back. Rooting himself as firmly as possible in reality helped. He grasped the sheets in his fists, pressed his back hard against the headboard, looking around the room to take in details as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He glanced at his phone on the nightstand and struggled with himself. He'd made her a deal. And he wanted her here. But they were on a case...

He slid back down under the sheets, still breathing hard. What did it matter, really, where they slept? Putting aside the unfairness of the fact that JJ couldn't have Will here to help her battle the darkness, and Rossi couldn't have Strauss… As long as they got up for work in the morning and behaved normally in front of the team, why shouldn't she be here with him? Before he could change his mind again, he called her.

* * *

"Hey," Emily said, running a hand through her hair and trying not to sound tired. "Are you okay?"

"Can you…" His voice was small, and tired.

"Of course. I'll be right there." She gathered up her phone, badge and gun and the clothes she had set out for the morning, grabbed her door key and headed for his room. She knocked once, lightly, and he opened the door immediately and let her in. "Hey," she said, putting her stuff down on the floor and wrapping her arms around his waist, feeling the cotton of his t-shirt clinging a little. Sweat. A bad one, then. He pressed his lips to her hair, holding her close. "Come on," she said, rubbing his back. "You need some rest."

He allowed her to lead him to bed, her hand holding his firmly, her fingers pressing gently into his. She climbed into the bed and held her arms out toward him, and he only hesitated for a second before curling into her, his head on her chest and her arms wrapping protectively around him. Soothed by the rhythmic rise and fall of her breast under his cheek as her fingers found their way into his hair, he slid his hand under her t-shirt, spread his palm flat on her soft skin. "Thanks," he whispered sleepily. It wasn't often that he allowed himself to be comforted, but Emily made it so easy.

"It's okay," she said softly, and the vibration of her voice felt so soothing he held her tighter. "It's okay. Go to sleep. I'm right here."

* * *

Emily stepped out of Hotch's ensuite in a towel just as his alarm went off. His eyes opened blearily, and he turned the alarm off and looked at the empty pillow beside him in confusion. "Over here," she said, smiling.

He turned his head and his eyes wandered up and down her body, at the droplets of water running down her skin, and he smiled. _So beautiful_. "I thought you left. Or I imagined you."

"Oh, your imagination could do better than that," she said, bending over to pick her clothes up from the floor. "Sleep okay?"

"I slept great." He got up, ran his hand through his hair and caught her as she straightened up. He wrapped his arms around her damp figure and kissed the top of her head, taking in the citrusy scent of her wet hair. "And there isn't an imagination in the world that could do better than this. But I'm going to have to ignore it because I need a shower and then it's time for work."

She whipped off her towel and handed it to him, and his eyes widened involuntarily as he took in her sudden, enticing nudity. "There was only one," she said by way of an explanation as she walked over to the bed and started getting dressed. She was still laughing when the lock clicked and the shower started.

Emily knew things with Morgan would go easier if she and Hotch arrived in the lobby separately, so as soon as she was ready she wrote him a not telling him she loved him and they were going to get this guy and she was proud of him for keeping their deal, and knocked the bathroom door to tell him she was heading downstairs. "Okay," he called back. "I'll be there soon."

* * *

When they arrived they went over the profile again immediately, highlighting the things they were still missing. According to their families and Garcia's digging, the victims were all fit, popular and successful young men, but didn't appear to have any particular place or activity in common, so they didn't know how he was targeting them. He thought of himself as an alpha male and had something to prove – targeting strong young men was a high-risk endeavour. He had to be blitz attacking them, but they didn't know how – stabbing seemed the obvious choice, since that was where his blitz attacks had started before he started actually taking his victims, but would he risk them bleeding out before he was finished with them? It seemed unlikely. The ME had found no evidence of sedatives or puncture marks from injections. On bodies so badly mutilated, though, they wouldn't necessarily see a puncture mark, and it was by far the lowest risk option. Either way, he had to have a large vehicle, probably a van, and somewhere secluded to keep the victims. He was confident, physically fit, and probably somewhere between thirty-five and fifty. Which meant he'd probably been stabbing for a long time and getting away with it. They delivered a rough profile to the locals and stressed that they didn't have enough to go on yet, and the press had to be kept out of it, and headed back to their conference room.

"Okay, so maybe he's been a suspect," Emily said. "If we're right, he's been doing this for a while, and probably a lot of it. Maybe he's been caught but the charges have been dropped or…?" She knew they didn't have enough yet to get a small enough suspect pool, but if there was any chance they could get _something_…

"I'll call Garcia," Morgan said. He dialled and put the phone on speaker in the middle of the table.

"Crime fighters," she said. "What can I do for you?"

"We need a list of suspects who have been good for stabbings in the unsub's comfort zone but weren't convicted, for whatever reason," Morgan said. "White males."

"I can do that but it's going to be a big number," Garcia warned.

"He's got to have a van, or a large SUV," JJ said.

"Not brown eyes," Emily added. Morgan looked at her sceptically. "He remembers everything, Morgan," Emily said pleadingly. "The unsub forced him to keep looking into his eyes as he stabbed him. He remembers his eyes. He's certain." Morgan looked at her, his eyes hard. Then he nodded once. She let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding at this small sign of trust. "And he'll have access to some kind of secluded property."

"Okay, got you. Van and SUV owners, no brown eyes, property owner… There are still five names," Garcia said.

"Send them to us and we'll get back to you," Hotch said.

"Consider it done, my loves."

"Thanks sweetness." Morgan reached over and ended the call. "Should we be looking at a sexual preference here? The stabbing, especially with the things he said to Robbie Carmichael -"

"I don't think so," Hotch said, his face a mask of professionalism. "He's targeting young alpha males, and probably sees himself as an alpha male too. He's targeting his competition. I think he does it to humiliate them. To make them feel violated and emasculated without having to actually perform sex acts on them."

Emily's stomach twisted and she wanted to grab his hand. She took a couple of deep breaths and looked down at the floor for long enough to gather herself before saying, "I think you're right. Nothing Robbie said suggested that the unsub got anything sexual out of what he did to him."

Reid nodded in agreement. "From what Robbie said, the unsub appeared triumphant, and he was enjoying being in control, but nothing suggested arousal or excitement. I think on some level he has an awareness of the symbolism of the penetration and uses it to his advantage in gaining power over his victims."

Hotch felt his throat tighten and gave a little cough before answering. "Okay. We need to go over Garcia's suspect list…"

* * *

Two properties, at opposite ends of town. It had been hours of working and reworking the profile, going over everything Garcia had found, and they had finally got him. He was undoubtedly their unsub. He fit the profile perfectly, and he had two secluded warehouses, inherited from his parents who had left him a family business. He had outsourced all the storage, and now both warehouses were unused, as far as Garcia could tell. They had no good way of knowing which one he'd be in, and now Hotch had to decide where they were going to go. He ran a hand though his hair. He had to split himself and Emily up, or risk Morgan being distracted. "Two SWAT teams," he said. "We'll split up. Dave, Prentiss and Morgan, you take the one in the north. JJ, Reid and I will take the other. Keep in touch and we go in at the same time."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I'd really appreciate reviews :) & remember if you have thoughts about how Emily & Jack's first meeting should go down, let me know :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's note: Hello, me again, & I still don't own Criminal Minds. Thank you for reading & thank you for all your reviews so far :) Here we go...**

* * *

Emily stood at the front entrance of the warehouse behind a SWAT agent, focusing on the door that was about to be broken down and waiting for Hotch's command in her earpiece. She'd allowed herself a few moments in the car to hope that the unsub was keeping Daniel here, so at least Hotch didn't have to run right into it, but now it was time to focus. Hotch was counting down. She met Rossi's eye, then Morgan's, and then SWAT broke down the door and they were in.

* * *

Almost as soon as they were inside, Hotch knew that the unsub wasn't here. The warehouse was a single, open space, and there were only a few boxes, piled up against one far corner. SWAT cleared the perimeter and looked for doors, but there was nothing. He lowered his gun, told the team they weren't here, and then started approaching the boxes, JJ and Reid following behind him. He opened a box, saw that it was full of photographs and barely had time to process what he was seeing before Dave's voice in his earpiece.

* * *

"FBI. Put the knife down," Emily said loudly, staring Graham Park in the eye. She kept her eyes on him because she couldn't allow herself to look at Daniel – he was wearing only a pair of boxers and a collar chaining him to the wall, and he was bruised and bloodied and cut, and shaking, his eyes wide with fear. Park's arm was around his neck and he had a long-bladed knife resting on his chest, right over his heart. Park's eyes started darting around – he was considering running, but they were blocking the only door. "You're surrounded," Emily said. "You're not getting out of here. Put the knife down." She started approaching, slowly. "Put it down Graham."

"GET BACK!"

"I'll stay right here," she said, stopping a few feet from him. "And you're going to put the knife down." His hand started shaking, and the point of the knife started digging into Daniel's flesh.

"I'll kill him."

"If you do, it won't change anything. It won't make your life better. You're not walking out of this a free man, either way. Your past is your past. Hurting all of those men hasn't changed that, has it?"

"I showed them. I showed them I was stronger."

"You sedated them then chained them up."

Behind her, Morgan tightened his grip on his gun, trained directly at Park's chest.

"I was stronger than them."

"Is that why you're doing this? To show us how strong you are? To show your _father_ how strong you are? We've seen what you can do. Hurting this man isn't going to change anything now. You need to put it down, Graham. Put it down and we can talk."

She saw it coming a split second before it happened, and had the sense to drop to the floor with her hands over her head as he leapt at her, getting well out of the way of the shots that started ringing around her. She cried out as the blade drove into her upper arm and dragged through her flesh, but she knew before she looked up that he was dead. "I'm okay!" she said, as Rossi ran toward her. "I'm okay." The pain was blinding – she blinked hard, trying to clear the blackness from her vision, then chanced a glance down at her arm and saw that she was bleeding heavily. She stared at the spreading blood, trying to wiggle her fingers, but she couldn't tell if it was working – she couldn't see far enough. Rossi ripped his vest off and took off his jacket, pressing it onto her arm firmly. "I'm okay," she repeated, using her other arm to push herself up into a sitting position.

Rossi shook his head at her determination and propped her up against his chest. "I know, Emily. You're going to be fine. But we need to stop the bleeding."

"Daniel…"

"Morgan's got him. He's called for medical. You're both going to be okay, just stop trying to move. You're bleeding."

"I know I am," she said woozily. She blinked again, and started feeling sick. She winced as the pain hit her again in another wave and grabbed at Rossi's arm. "Rossi…"

"It's okay kid," he said, wrapping his arm around her more tightly to hold her up. "I've got you. You're going to be okay."

She kept trying to flex her fingers, but her vision was too blurry to know if they were moving. "Is Aaron coming?" she said, startled by the weakness of her voice. _At least this way Morgan won't hear me ask_, she found herself thinking.

"He's meeting us at the hospital – he won't get all the way here before the ambulance," Rossi said softly. "But he's coming, Emily, don't worry. Listen, that's the ambulance now – can you hear it?"

Her eyelids were starting to drop and he lowered her down onto the ground, keeping his jacket pressed firmly into her arm. He looked down and saw that his fingers were covered in her blood, but he couldn't let himself process it. He had to keep her conscious. "Look at me Emily. You need to stay awake, kid. Come on." With what looked like a great deal of effort, she dragged her eyes open and met his, smiling weakly. "That's it, there you go," he said, smiling back. "Just keep looking at me. I'm right here."

* * *

JJ wouldn't let Hotch drive to the hospital, but she was almost as bad, her hands shaking hard on the steering wheel and her eyes blurring with tears that she had to keep blinking away. She'd flipped on the lights and sirens and they were speeding through traffic lights. "Faster," Hotch muttered from her side, his glassy eyes fixed on the road.

"I can't, Hotch," she said, her voice shaking. "I can't go faster, I'm sorry, but we're nearly there. She's going to be okay. Almost there."

He nodded, refusing to look at anybody. In the back, Reid was clinging grimly to the handle on the ceiling, staring out of the window and biting his lip to stave off tears. Not Emily again.

* * *

They ran into the waiting room, and Rossi and Morgan stood up. Hotch dragged his eyes to Morgan's, unable to put on any kind of act right now and dreading his anger. "They're working on her, Hotch," Morgan said. "She's going to be okay, but she lost a lot of blood and she was unconscious by the time they got her here." He reached out and grasped Hotch's arm. "She's going to be okay." Hotch nodded, and was faintly aware of being guided backwards and lowered onto a chair. Morgan sat down beside him, keeping a firm grip on his arm. He'd watched Hotch lose one woman he loved, and as much as he wasn't sure about this relationship, he couldn't stand seeing him this broken again.

Reid and JJ turned toward Rossi. Rossi took one look at JJ's tear-filled eyes and quivering body and pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her. She started crying immediately. "How bad is it?" Reid asked quietly.

"It's… There was a lot of blood. She's going to be okay, but it's a big wound. I came in the ambulance with her. They didn't know what he'd hit and there was too much blood to look, so now that she's in surgery they'll tell us when they can…"

Reid nodded, and put his hand on JJ's lower back. "She's going to be okay," he said quietly. JJ turned toward him and wrapped her arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably. "She's okay, JJ. She's going to be fine."

Rossi steered them both toward chairs, and they fell into them awkwardly. JJ took a deep, shaking breath and said, "I know. I know she's… But… I can't stop thinking about…" _The last time_. Reid's arms tightened around her. "We need to call Garcia," she said suddenly. She sat up straight and wiped the tears from her face, although fresh ones continued to flow from her eyes. "I'm going to um… That's what… I'm going to call Garcia, okay?"

"Good idea," Rossi said. "Just let me talk to her when you're done, alright?"

* * *

Penelope answered the call straight away, thinking maybe the unsub hadn't been in either warehouse and now the team needed something new. And then the first thing she heard was sobbing. "Hello?" she said, flying immediately into a panic. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"Emily," JJ sobbed.

Penelope's heart sank. "No," she said, her eyes brimming with tears which immediately spilled over. "No no no, not again."

JJ kept talking, her voice shaking as she cried, and Penelope strained hard to understand what she was saying. "She's… She's in surgery… Going to be okay… Just her arm…"

"Okay," Penelope said, trying to process what she was hearing. "Okay, it's okay JJ. Can I come? Ask Hotch if I can fly over there."

"Rossi wants… Wait."

There was some movement on the other end of the line and then Rossi's voice, filled the room. "It's okay," he said smoothly. "Don't worry. It's her arm – she lost consciousness and she's in surgery, but she's going to be okay."

"Okay," she repeated. "But… Sir, can I come? Please?"

"She might be able to fly tomorrow."

"But we don't know."

"No, not yet."

"Then please. I can't just stay here."

Rossi sighed. He knew he'd feel the same, if he was stuck in his office in this situation. "It's a long flight, Garcia."

"I don't care. She won't be flying home within the time it'll take me to fly down there, and I cannot just sit here while –" She realised she sounded hysterical and stopped, took a deep breath and added, "Sir. Please."

"Okay," he said. "I know. Catch the next flight."

Penelope immediately logged out of her system, grabbed her bag and ran for the door.

* * *

**Thank you for reading :) Please review, and let me know if you have thoughts on Emily & Jack's first meeting :)**


	17. Chapter 17

A doctor came into the waiting room and Hotch's head snapped up, the rest of his team mirroring the action. "Agent Prentiss is out of surgery," she said. "She'll wake up soon. She'll still be tired, and she'll be in a lot of pain, but I think it would be okay for you to go in and see her. No major nerves have been damaged, but there was some damage to the muscle. She'll need to go easy on the arm until the muscle is able to repair itself, but she will regain full function. It's a good outcome. But go easy on her."

* * *

Emily's eyes were heavy. She was so tired but the light was so bright. And god her arm hurt. She winced as the pain shot through her, and then his voice. Right by her ear. Soft and quick: "Emily? Are you awake?" And she was taken by surprise when her heart fluttered in her chest. And she remembered why she was here and what had happened and how worried they all must be. She dragged her eyes open and he said it again. "Emily!" She became aware of a hand enclosing hers, and a split second later she knew it was his.

"Hey," she said, her throat dry. She blinked a few times to adjust to the light and then looked around the room.

"Just me right now," he said softly. He poured her a plastic cup of water and handed it to her. "The others are waiting outside, and JJ called Garcia – she'll be here in the morning."

Emily sipped the water and nodded, still processing what was happening. "I'm so sorry," she said, bringing her eyes back to meet his.

He moved closer, closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Don't be ridiculous, Emily."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I'm okay now you're awake and looking at me." He couldn't take his eyes off hers, drinking in her steady gaze, amazed by the concern deep in her eyes and feeling so lucky to be here with her. He desperately wanted to climb into bed with her. He traced circles on her palm with his thumb, loving the way her fingers relaxed against his.

"Was there anything in the other warehouse?" she asked, and his body tensed, his grip on her hand twitching a little. "Aaron?"

"Photographs… And drawings and diary entries, things he had done, things he wanted to do… We didn't see everything because we came here, but they've been taken to the station."

"And you're sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure that's not the point right now," he said, a half smile on his lips. "Emily. I love you."

"I love you too."

"So why are you apologising?"

"I have to stay here tonight," she said, and then chewed her bottom lip.

He stared at her for a few seconds, confused, then realised. She was apologising because he'd have to sleep alone tonight. He laughed and a lump formed in his throat, the force of the love he felt for her in that moment so overwhelming his body didn't know what to do with it. "Emily, you…" He shook his head, wishing he could find words for what he felt. He rested his hand on her cheek, his thumb whispering over her perfect cheekbone. "You're everything," he said eventually.

* * *

When Hotch came to the door to let the rest of the team in, JJ was relieved to see that he looked a lot more relaxed. She went straight to Emily's side and hugged her carefully, making sure not to touch her bandaged arm or get tangled in anything. "Hey," Emily whispered, right by her ear. "It's okay. I'm okay." JJ nodded, and gave her another quick squeeze before stepping back to let Reid in. He hugged her too, burying his head in her shoulder as she held him as tightly as she could in her awkward position. "Still right here," she whispered, and he straightened up with a watery smile.

"Hey sleepyhead," Morgan said, stepping toward her and taking her hand. "I'm sorry I didn't get him faster."

She shook her head. "You couldn't have. Thank you." She turned to Rossi. "And thank you."

"Any time, kid," he replied. "Let's just hope we don't need to test that promise."

"Daniel?" she said. She was getting sleepy.

"He's had his injuries checked out and they've called his family," Rossi said. "He'll have no permanent damage. He can go home tomorrow."

She nodded, relieved, and ran a hand over her eyes, trying to keep herself awake. "You're tired," Hotch said. She nodded again. "Okay. We'll leave you to get some sleep. We'll be back in the morning with Garcia." Her eyes were starting to close, and he kissed her forehead, only faintly aware of the team's eyes on them. "Goodnight sweetheart."

* * *

Garcia tiptoed into Emily's room, closing the door gently behind her and then walking very slowly toward the bed. She'd come straight from the airport, and she hadn't slept, but just seeing Emily lying there perked her up. She was sleeping, her hair fanned out over the pillow, her position a little awkward due to the bandages and sling, but she was very much whole and alive. Garcia pressed a kiss to the tip of her index finger, then pressed it to Emily's forehead. "You should be on the cover of medical journals," she said softly, as Emily's eyes fluttered open, and she smiled. "Honestly, Em…"

Emily used her good arm to pull her into a hug. "I can't believe you came all the way here."

"Oh don't be silly," Garcia said, sitting down on the chair by the bed. "Of course I did. You would."

Emily nodded. "Thank you."

"Oh don't thank me yet, kitten," Garcia said, a grin spreading across her face. "I come bearing good news from the outside."

"The outside?" Emily asked, the corners of her mouth quirking up, feeling so grateful for this woman who always made her smile.

"Hotch is outside your door. Hush now, I'm bearing news."

"Sorry," she laughed. "Carry on."

"You can fly home with us today."

Emily closed her eyes and dropped her head back as relief flooded over her. She knew the team wouldn't have been allowed to stay away another night, and she dreaded being alone in a hospital again – she'd had quite enough of that. "Thanks, Penelope."

"Hey, feel free to love the messenger," Garcia said, taking her hand and squeezing it. "The doctor is going to come in and check you over then you can get ready and come home."

* * *

They fussed over her so much for the first hour of the flight that she found herself vaguely imagining sedating them all and piling them up in the corner. "Guys I love you all, but please get some sleep," she said, after Garcia fluffed her travel pillow and jammed it behind her neck again.

Hotch caught her eye and couldn't help laughing. "Get some rest everybody. Nobody had a restful night."

Mumbling, they separated and got comfortable, and Hotch stayed opposite Emily. She flashed him a grateful little smile then looked out of the window until everyone was either sleeping or occupied with books or music. She reached across the table and took his hand, toying with his fingers. "I'm glad it was me," she said softly.

He shook his head. "Emily, I'm s–"

"Hey," she said. "No. I'm okay."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"You couldn't be. Splitting up was the right decision this time. And either way, either JJ or I had to talk to him."

He nodded and turned her hand over, flattening his palm against hers and then tracing his fingertips gently over her soft skin. She watched their hands for a few moments, mesmerised by his feather touch, and when she looked up at him he looked exhausted. "Aaron, did you actually sleep last night?" His guilty expression gave him away before he opened his mouth, and she sighed. She moved to the chair next to him, tilted his chair back and handed him her travel pillow. He took it and leaned back on it. "Go to sleep honey," she whispered, holding his hand and resting her head on his shoulder. His body relaxed almost immediately, but she stayed put until his grip on her hand loosened and his breathing had been slow and regular for a few minutes.

* * *

Emily sat down opposite Morgan and touched his arm, and he looked up and took off his headphones. "Hey," she said. "Can we talk?"

He tucked his iPod and headphones away. "Emily, I'm sorry about your arm."

"Don't be," she said. "What's another scar." She caught his eye and laughed. "I'm sorry, Morgan, I'm messing with you. It's okay. I've had a lot worse, and we got him." He nodded, giving her a reproachful look and she took a deep breath before continuing. "Morgan. Before I took off after Doyle, when I realised that's what I was going to have to do… You told me I don't trust people because everybody I've ever trusted has let me down. And you were almost right." She paused to steady her voice. "You… This team… Never let me down. I ran from you because I had to protect you, you know that?"

He nodded, because he understood she'd believed that, but he couldn't help saying, "Emily, we could have helped you."

She shook her head sadly. "He was too good. Too ruthless. And it was too personal. There is not a chance you would have all got out of it alive if I had intentionally involved you." Her face hardened as she added, "And if anybody was going to die for the things I did, it had to be me."

"Emily…"

With a plea in her voice, she said, "I know you may not trust me right now, or maybe ever, I don't know. But please believe that. I did it to protect you, not because I couldn't trust you but because you were the only people in the world who never let me down. And who made me feel…" She clenched her jaw, the next word too hard. "Loved," she whispered, so quietly he wasn't sure at first that he'd heard her right.

But she'd taken her hand back and she was leaning her forehead on it and he couldn't see her face but he was sure she was crying. "Hey," he said, reaching out and holding onto her arm.

Emily fought the tears dropping from her eyes. She couldn't believe she had just said that out loud, but she needed to do this. Of course she knew that on some level that her mother loved her, but she had never actually felt it. Matthew had loved her, a long time ago, with complete acceptance the way only a real friend could, and then she'd had to leave him behind for another anonymous place, another new start… And then Ian had loved Lauren, and Declan had, and Emily had a taste of what it would be like to be loved, to have a family, but it wasn't hers. It was Lauren's. And it had broken her. She glanced over at Hotch sleeping, exactly the way she had left him, and said, "Morgan, I came back because I've never felt at home anywhere else. And you were right. It's time to trust people. Completely."

"You can trust us," he agreed, his voice low and quiet. She nodded, not looking up, and he said, "And I trust you. Both of you. I think it's going to change things, but I need to trust you because you've given me a million reasons to do that. You hear me? I'm sorry, Emily."

* * *

**(I don't own Criminal Minds.) Thank you everybody for reading. Please review, they really keep me going, & I like to know what you guys like so I can try & do more of it. Still open to ideas about Emily & Jack's first meeting :) Thank you everyone. See you next time.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's note: Hi! I don't own Criminal Minds. Those of you who have been following this story may or may not notice I changed my screen name, but I'm definitely still me. Thank you for all your support so far :)**

* * *

"You don't have to do this you know," Emily said, leaning against the doorframe of Hotch's bathroom. "I would have been okay at my place…"

"I know," he said from his perch on the side of the bathtub, swishing his hand around the water to check the temperature. "But I didn't expect to be home for at least another night, and Jack is going to spend the night at Jessica's, which he loves to do, and I wanted you here with me tonight. And you look like you could use a bubble bath. And since I have full use of both of my arms and you don't, it only makes sense that I should be down here making that happen."

Smiling, she came over to stand in front of him, and ran her hand through his hair, messing it up just a little. "Thank you." She wasn't very good at letting people do things for her, and it was a struggle to keep herself from protesting more, but she knew she shouldn't. And she _did_ want a bubble bath.

He rested his cheek against her chest for a moment then turned off the water, standing up and taking her hand. "Thank you for coming home with me," he said. "I appreciate it. Now you relax, and I'm going to make us something to eat."

* * *

Emily undressed awkwardly, having stubbornly refused Hotch's help. She unwrapped the bandage and dropped it to the floor with her clothes, but left on the waterproof dressing covering her stitches. Her arm felt weird – it hurt, but that was kind of okay. It was the weakness that was more annoying – it just took so much more effort than normal to do anything with it. She climbed into the bath and sank gratefully into the water. She sighed, slid down as far as possible and closed her eyes, breathing in the calming lavender, starting to work through everything that had happened in the past few days.

* * *

"Emily?" His voice was muffled by the steam and the door, but it still made her heart flutter.

"Mmm?"

"Can I come in?"

She sat up, tucked her knees up to her chest and said, "Of course."

When he came in, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, she was surprised to see that he looked shy, smiling self-consciously and maintaining determined eye contact as he said, "Dinner is ready when you are." She raised her eyebrows, smiling and he said, "You, um." He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and pushed her wet hair back from her forehead, traced his fingertips from her temple down her neck to her collarbone. She tilted her head, leaning into his touch, and he shook his head as she looked up at him, water droplets glistening on her dark lashes. "You're beautiful."

She blushed, still nowhere near used to being the subject of that intensity she'd found so sexy for so long. He stood up and held a towel toward her. She clambered awkwardly out of the bathtub and he wrapped it around her, pulling her into his arms and pressing a kiss to her cheekbone. "Dinner time," he whispered.

* * *

"I considered candles," Hotch said, as he led Emily into the kitchen. "But it turns out I don't have any. So if you'd please join me in pretending this lamp is romantic…" He dimmed the lights and gestured apologetically to the desk lamp he'd put in the middle of the table.

Emily laughed and slipped her arm around his waist. "It's beautiful," she said, grinning. He pulled her chair out for her and she sat down.

Hotch filled their wine glasses, served the pasta he'd made and sat down opposite her, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her and they started to eat. They ate quietly for a while until Emily looked sideways at the lamp and cracked up again. He dropped his head, laughing, and said, "I'm terrible at this."

She shook her head and reached across the table for his hand. "You're perfect at this," she replied honestly. Grand, traditional romantic gestures always made her kind of uncomfortable, because she didn't know how to be the quiet and unassuming woman who lived in that stereotype. And she didn't much want to be. Neither one of them lived in that world. She wanted to be a part of his real life – she didn't want the kind of Aaron Hotchner who had candles just in case he had to impress somebody at short notice. But she _did_ want the kind of Aaron Hotchner who tried to create romance using a lamp.

"Emily?" he said softly, and watched her faraway expression fade slowly as she brought her attention fully back to the room. She smiled at him, looking completely content, and he said, "What are you thinking?"

Still smiling, she dropped her eyes to her plate, taking a couple more bites of pasta before she replied, although she was already pretty full. "I hate that question." He just waited. "I'm thinking… That I'm very lucky to be here with you. I'm lucky to be _anywhere_, alive. And I get to be Emily again. And I'm so lucky to be in this room with _you_, and this wonderfully romantic table setting." She looked up at him with a slight smile and he smiled back, their legs meeting under the table. "I'm thinking I love you. And I've wanted this for um…" She paused and smiled ruefully at him. "For kind of a long time, and I just… Want to be…" She shrugged, and a stab of pain shot through her arm, but she didn't care much because he was staring intently into her eyes.

He caught her ankles between his under the table and she smiled. "I love you too," he said. He hesitated, looking down at the table and fidgeting a little with his fingers. He wanted to talk to her about Jack, because if she was going to be a part of his life the way he wanted her to be, the way he hoped she wanted to be, then she'd have to meet his son. It felt kind of soon, but he trusted her as completely as he knew how to trust anyone and he wasn't sure how long he could keep avoiding it without starting to act evasive. And he knew better than to expect to get away with that. He took a deep breath and said, "And I'm worried this is going to completely ruin it, but whilst we're here I want to talk to you about something. And I want you to know that if you don't want to talk about it right now, that's okay, we can wait, you just need to tell me."

She eyed him warily. "What kind of something?"

He took a deep breath and looked her directly in the eye. "Jack." He waited for her to react, and when she just continued to look at him steadily, he said, "Are you… Okay with talking about it, or should we wait? Because I know it's fast, and -"

"Aaron." He stopped in his tracks and she gave him a little reassuring smile, although her stomach was twisting and her heart was pounding. Jack was a big deal. Work had been the first hurdle, and it had gone extraordinarily well so far, but if he wasn't comfortable with her being around Jack, or if Jack didn't like her, it was off. She knew that. And it was terrifying. But she had overreacted the last time he brought up something that made her anxious, and she was not going to do it this time. "'Jack' is just one word – I still don't know where this conversation is going, and I'm a little nervous. But go ahead. Let's talk about it." He hesitated and she squeezed his hand. "It's okay."

He nodded. "I'm… I want this relationship, Emily. I learned my lesson about letting things slip away from me, and I don't want to let that happen again." Watching her closely, monitoring her for signs he was freaking her out, he continued carefully, "I don't want… To do the dating thing. I don't know how, for one thing, and I don't want us to waste time pretending not to be serious when we both know we wouldn't be doing this if we weren't."

"Right," she agreed. "I know that. We couldn't risk everything we're risking to… Mess around or… I know that. We're serious, as far as I'm concerned."

He nodded again. He'd known that, really, but he had to be sure. "And if we're going to do this then I'd like you to meet Jack sometime soon. Maybe this weekend? If you'd like that."

"I'd like that," she said, letting out a breath she hadn't been consciously holding. "Let's do it."

* * *

**Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it, and please leave reviews. Thank you :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's note: Still don't own Criminal Minds. Thank you so much for reading & for your reviews so far. So without further ado - the Jack meeting.**

* * *

"You remember my friend Emily is coming over for dinner today?" Hotch said.

Jack looked up from the picture he was drawing with a content smile. "Yeah. Did I meet Emily yet?" he asked, for at least the tenth time since Hotch had brought up their plans for today.

"You have," Hotch replied, "but you were very little, and we don't always remember everything from way back then."

Jack nodded. "I remember some stuff. Not Emily though. What's she like?"

"She's um…" _Indescribable_. "She's nice. And funny. I think you'll like her."

"And you like her, right?" Jack's searching eyes met his.

"Yeah buddy. I like her." He smiled, and Jack smiled back. "What are you drawing?"

"Dragons."

* * *

Emily dropped her head to the steering wheel when she pulled up outside Hotch's house. She'd changed her clothes four times since the morning, as if a six-year-old was going to judge her fashion choices, and she could feel her heart pounding in her throat. She wasn't afraid of much – there wasn't much left to be afraid of – but this was different. She'd met Jack a couple of times before, but he'd been much younger and she hadn't been in a relationship with his father, so that didn't count. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and checked the text message: 'Are you sitting outside in your car?' Laughing, she put her phone back in the pocket of her jeans and got out of the car. Hotch was standing in the window, shaking his head and smiling.

* * *

Hotch let Emily in, giving her a reassuring smile as he took her jacket and hung it up. "Don't worry," he whispered. "Ready?" She nodded, and he took her hand and led her into the kitchen, where Jack was sitting at the table with a stack of paper and some felt tip pens. "Jack, this is my friend Emily," Hotch said, feeling her fingers tighten around his as Jack looked up at her. "Emily – Jack."

Emily let go of his hand and held hers out toward Jack. He looked up at her with a shy smile, his eyes big and dark like his father's. "Pleased to meet you again Jack," she said.

He shook her hand, giggling, and said, "Hi." He dropped his eyes back to his drawing and Hotch pulled a chair out for Emily before sitting down himself.

"Wow," she said, looking over at his drawing. "Dragons, right?"

Jack looked up, smiling. "Yeah."

"They're good."

Jack nodded and pointed to his paper. "This is the daddy dragon and this is the little dragon."

"They look happy," Emily said. He'd drawn them with big cartoon smiles.

He nodded again, adding spikes on their backs. "They are," he said. "You've saw me before?"

"I have seen you before." Emily smiled, tilting her head. "But you were very little then, and you're not so little anymore."

Jack smiled proudly and stretched up, making his back and neck as long as possible. Hotch got up and grabbed him around his waist, and Jack squealed and giggled as Hotch set him on his shoulders, holding on to his legs. "Hasn't he grown? It seems like just a few minutes ago he was all the way down there," he said, pointing to the chair he'd just swept Jack from. Jack held onto his head, giggling helplessly.

"He does grow fast," Emily agreed. "You'll have to reign it in or he'll be bigger than the house soon. Like a real dragon."

Jack gave a little fire-breathing roar, and Hotch laughed. "Okay buddy. You want to tell Emily what we're having for dinner?"

"Pizzapizzapizzapizza."

"I can't hear you from all the way up there – did you say avocado salad?"

Jack collapsed with laughter as Hotch put him back on his chair and started making dinner.

* * *

After dinner, Emily and Hotch settled on the sofa while Jack chose a DVD. "Have you seen this one?" he asked Emily, holding up one of his favourites. _Finding Nemo_.

She shook her head. "You know, I don't think I have."

"Can we watch it daddy?"

"Of course buddy. You know what to do."

Jack crawled to the DVD player and put the disk in, then came over to sit between Hotch and Emily on the sofa. "You'll like it," he told Emily confidently, bringing his legs up and crossing them in front of him.

Emily grinned at him. "I'm sure you have excellent taste." She looked from Jack to Hotch and the intensity of his gaze nearly knocked her over backwards. Hotch stared at her, his heart doing backflips in his chest because god, the sight of that radiant smile directed at his son... She smiled weakly at him and he reached over the back of the sofa, his fingers lacing into her hair, touching her softly, lovingly. It felt good, and she leaned her head back a little for more contact.

The movie hadn't been on long when Emily started to get an idea of why Jack liked it so much. When Nemo's mother died protecting her eggs, she chanced a sideways glance. Jack looked up at Hotch and gave him a very grown up smile, and Hotch smiled back. "Love you Jack," he whispered. Jack nodded and turned back to the screen, and Emily bit her lip and turned to Hotch. She took his hand from her hair and shuffled closer so it rested on her shoulder and she could hold it comfortably, and kissed his wrist. He gave her fingers a grateful squeeze.

By the end of the movie, Jack was lying across them on the sofa, his head in Hotch's lap and his legs in Emily's. Hotch stroked his hair gently as Nemo was reunited with his father, and Jack's feet wriggled with happiness. He yawned as the credits rolled and looked up at Emily. "You like it?" he asked.

"I loved it," she replied. "You do have good taste."

He grinned and clambered up, kneeling on the sofa facing her as Hotch got up to take the DVD out. "It's my favourite ever," he said.

Emily nodded. "I can see why." She glanced over at Hotch, who was doing an excellent job of looking like he wasn't listening. "Nemo has a really good dad, huh?"

"Yeah and me too," Jack replied. "That's why I like it." She smiled and looked at Hotch again – he'd turned back toward them and he was watching with his head tilted to the side and a soft smile on his face.

Jack reached out and touched her bandaged arm with the very tips of his fingers, uncertainly, as if he wasn't sure he was allowed. "What happened?" he asked.

"Oh, it's okay," she replied. "I was, um…" She looked over at Hotch and he smiled reassuringly. "I was catching a bad guy, and he hurt me a little because he didn't want to be caught. But it doesn't hurt too much, don't worry. I just have to be careful with it right now."

Jack nodded. "And you got the bad guy?" he asked.

"Yeah," Emily said, smiling ruefully. For better or worse, Jack was picking up his father's priorities. "We got him."

"Okay, bedtime Jack," Hotch said, ruffling Jack's hair. "Go get ready and I'll be right there. Say goodnight to Emily?"

"Night J-" Emily stopped in her tracks as Jack wrapped his arms around her neck. She hugged him back, eyes closed, and when she looked up at Hotch he was watching them, smiling warmly. "Sweet dreams," she said, as Jack planted a kiss on her cheek and ran off toward the stairs.

Hotch leaned down and kissed her, tucking her hair behind her ears and running his thumbs over her cheekbones. "I love you," he whispered. "I'll be back soon."

As he left the room she fell back onto the sofa, her whole body tingling with the intensity of his touch, her mind racing with the thought that this could be her future and there was nothing she wanted more.

* * *

Hotch closed Jack's door quietly and stood on the other side of it for a few seconds, listening to Jack shuffling around getting comfortable. He'd got on so easily with Emily, and she'd been wonderful. He'd known she was full of maternal instinct, of course – he knew the lengths she'd gone to for Declan, and he'd seen her with kids on cases and even with Henry a couple of times – and it had always been one of the things that he'd found so attractive about her. But the sight of her hugging his little boy goodnight had sealed the deal for him. He was hers, entirely, and it was kind of a terrifying feeling.

He went downstairs and sat on the sofa beside her. Completely lost for words, he just said, "Emily."

She turned to face him and the look on her face set fire to the softly glowing something inside of him. He reached toward her and she closed the gap between them immediately, straddling him and pulling his face to hers, knotting her hands in his hair as she kissed him, ignoring the stinging feeling in her arm because nothing could make her let go of him now. He slid his hands under her t-shirt, one resting between her shoulder blades and the other on her lower back, and pulled her body as close to his as possible, his fingertips on fire with the impossible softness of her skin. "Emily," he said again, as she pulled back, breathing hard, and rested her forehead on his. "I want you forever."

She closed her eyes and whispered, "You've got me."

* * *

**So there you are. If you haven't seen Finding Nemo, everything you need to know to understand why I think Jack would love it is mentioned here, but basically it's about this clownfish (stick with me) whose mother does protecting her babies from a barricuda. Only Nemo makes it. He's brought up by just his (slightly overprotective & serious but super loving) dad, & then he gets stolen by a diver & his dad searches the whooooole ocean looking for him. You should watch it. Totally one of the best movies ever. Anyway, leave a review please please then go watch Finding Nemo ) Do it for Jack!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's note: Hi :) I don't own Criminal Minds. Thank you so much for all your reviews recently, I love love love reviews :)**

* * *

_It was dark and cold and this place was familiar. Nausea crept over him as he felt Foyet's breath on his face. "Jack was so pleased to see me!" the voice said, right behind him, and he turned, reaching to his hip for his gun but it wasn't there. Foyet wasn't either, just cold shadows. Hotch looked around slowly, carefully, looking for something he could use as a weapon, readying himself… "He wanted to know why daddy wasn't here," Foyet continued, his voice more in the air around him now than from anywhere in particular, and the breath on his face was suffocating… And then he saw it and he had to fight to stop himself from crying out – Jack on the floor, in the shadows, or his body, and Foyet kneeling over another figure right next to him. Tall, and dark hair, dress shirt, polished shoes. He wanted to turn and run when he realised he was seeing himself, but he couldn't, he had to get to Jack, he had to know if he was alive. He could feel himself talking but he couldn't hear what he was saying, he didn't know if he was saying the right things – what if he said the wrong thing, what if he was making it worse, what if he was wrong… Foyet looked up at him, sadistic pleasure written all over his face as he drove the knife slowly, relentlessly into his body. Hotch felt it – the slow, sharp, unbearable pressure as the blade sunk into his flesh, and he saw himself writhe on the ground, trying not to show him fear or weakness, but how could he not? The voice filled the air again – "…much easier if you relax… be gentle with her, like I was with you?..." – and his stomach turned and there were tears on his cheeks and he couldn't stop himself from showing fear because it was paralysing him…_

* * *

He was holding her so closely that she woke almost as soon as it started. He was just a little restless at first, his muscles contracting oddly, a little twitch in his leg. She held his arms tighter around her, stroking his forearm lightly, trying to soothe him, but it wasn't working. He was starting to talk in incomprehensible whispers, distress obvious in his urgent, frightened tone. "Aaron," she said. He let go of her suddenly and threw himself onto his back, and she got up to kneel on the bed facing him, alarmed. "_Aaron_." She flattened her palm on his shoulder, shook him a little. There was fear on his face, and he turned again, knocking her a little off balance, tangling himself in the sheets. He was starting to breathe too quickly. "Aaron," she said, as loudly as she dared, trying to disentangle him. She really didn't want to wake Jack. "Come on, wake up honey. Wake up." She held his bicep tight with one hand, pushed back the hair clinging to his forehead with the other. A horrible feeling of helplessness started to creep over her, and then his arm broke free of her grasp and a hand flew at her and she grabbed it, stopped it before it hit her, and his eyes flew open and met hers wildly. "It's okay," she said softly, lowering his hand onto her bare thigh, flattening it against her skin and holding it there. "You're okay."

He scrambled up to a sitting position, breathing roughly, trying to hold back the nausea long enough to take in what was happening. Emily knelt in front of him, her eyes wide with concern. Swallowing hard, his hands shaking violently, he pulled her toward him as gently as he could. She obliged, wrapping her arms around his neck, sitting half in his lap as his trembling arms closed around her. "Breathe, Aaron," she whispered soothingly. "You'll make yourself sick. Breathe."

He closed his eyes, pressed his face into her hair, and tried hard to regulate his breathing. The images weren't fading, though, and the voice wouldn't go, and there was a relentless burning feeling in his stomach and he was almost certain he was going to throw up and oh god he'd almost hit her. "I'm sorry," he said in a tense whisper.

She shook her head and her hand glided smoothly up and down his arm, trying to release some of the tension in his muscles. "It's okay honey. Relax. You're okay."

"I could've -"

"You didn't," she said firmly. He heard the smile in her voice as she added, "I'm too fast for you." But he couldn't respond. _Definitely going to throw up_. He got up abruptly and left the room nearly at a run, and Emily sat back, picking at her fingernails, waiting. She'd slay anyone who stood watching her vomit, and she figured he was probably the same. Her suspicion was confirmed when she heard fast running water. She gave him a few minutes then got up, went downstairs and filled a glass of water, doing everything at half her normal speed to give him time. She knocked the bathroom door so quietly she wasn't sure he'd hear it over the sound of the water he had running, but it opened a few seconds later, and he was standing in front of her, pale and sweating, his hair clinging to his forehead. She handed him the water and brushed her hand down his arm as she passed him and turned the shower on. "Get in," she instructed him, her voice firm but gentle.

He took a sip of the water, feeling both too hot and too cold, embarrassed that she was seeing him in this state but also tremendously grateful that she was here. He couldn't quite meet her eyes, but she wasn't pushing for it. She just nudged him toward the shower again and took his glass while he undressed. "I'll be right back," she said. "I'm going to get you clean clothes, alright?" He took a deep breath and nodded as he stepped into the shower.

* * *

When he was clean and dressed, Emily waited in the hallway as he crept into Jack's room and gave him a quick kiss and tucked his blankets around him. He crept back out, closing Jack's door silently behind him, and then looked properly at Emily for the first time since he'd woken up. She was leaning against the wall, in just his shirt, her hair pleasantly messy and her arms folded, watching him. "You look good in that," he said, and she smiled. She took him by the hand and led him back to his bedroom. He practically collapsed into bed and she followed, and he rearranged their bodies for maximum contact, holding her close and tracing his fingertips up and down her arm. "It never happens when you're here," he muttered, feeling stupid for saying it out loud, but too sleepy and already too exposed to care much.

"Aaron," she whispered, and he pulled her a little closer, because his name on her lips was still wonderful. "There's something you're not dealing with. It's okay if you don't want to tell me about it, and it's okay if you want to wait and talk some other time. But you need to do something. You can't keep this up."

"I know," he said. "It was okay until the last case, and now I guess…" He sighed heavily, and a little shiver went through his muscles. Emily caught his hand at her elbow and brought it to her lips, kissing his fingertips then lacing her fingers through hers and squeezing them lightly. He sighed, his eyelids getting heavy. "But right now I just really want to sleep."

"That's okay. Just remember, whenever you're ready…" She sighed and added, "Just don't think you have to hide from me. I'm full of stuff I'm not dealing with."

"You don't tell your therapist?" he said, and she smiled as she heard the eyebrows-raised expression in his voice. "The Bureau pays good money for that."

"I'm sure you told your FBI-issue therapist everything," she muttered. "I'm sure that's exactly why you're so lighthearted and untroubled now."

He laughed and kissed her cheek. "Goodnight sweetheart."

* * *

**I'm not sure whether to start a new story as kind of a sequel or keep going with this one. I'm thinking I'm probably going to keep going here & just change the description to indicate that the focus is shifting away from Emily coming home - what do you think? Anything in particular you'd like to see? I have one major idea that I really want to handle but I'd be interested to hear your suggestions too. You guys are great, thank you, & please review :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's note: Thank you for your reviews so far! If you're interested, I did a Hotch and Emily and Jack oneshot that fits into the timeline of this story but some time the following year - do feel free to check it out! Plug over, I hope you enjoy this chapter - I wanted to bring in some of Emily's struggles, and also some good times with the team. I do love writing them all together.**

* * *

It_ was pitch black, too dark to see even shadows. First, she just felt his presence. It put her on edge, and her fingers twitched toward where her gun should be. Except it wasn't there, because she was in pyjamas – her own shorts and Hotch's t-shirt. Then she smelled him. It was a harsh, familiar smell, whisky and something, and she fought to keep her breathing regular, her work face on. And then he spoke, somewhere behind her, and the voice that filled her ears was an assault on her emotions: dread and fear and guilt and a soft something she couldn't help but still classify as love. "Hello Lauren."_

_She clenched her hands at her sides. "Ian," she replied, her voice harsh even in her own ears._

_"That's no way to greet the man you love." There was an echo, too much to place the direction the voice was coming from. The darkness was all-consuming – no matter how hard she tried, her eyes wouldn't adjust to it, and she couldn't see a thing. _

_She turned anyway, and felt a sting somewhere in her abdomen. She must have made a sound, cried out or said something, because he said, "Does it hurt, Lauren?"_

_"Emily," she said forcefully, her jaw clenched._

_"Emily Prentiss is dead," he said harshly. "Don't pretend we don't both know. I killed her."_

_"Lauren's gone and Emily is right here," Emily replied, still trying to place the voice, to blink away the darkness. Her voice was still cold, her breath as regular as she could make it, but her hands had started to shake and there were tears stinging at her eyes._

_"No – I would never just let her die. Not without taking everything. Lauren took everything from me, and I took everything from Emily."_

_She clenched and unclenched her hands – her fingers brushed the cotton of Hotch's t-shirt at her hips, and the realisation hit her with unbearable force, and something stung inside her body. "No," she whispered, her eyes widening, her breaths getting harsher, more ragged._

_"Everything," he repeated, and there was a twisted smile in his voice. "You took my boy… You shouldn't have done that."_

_And then the darkness was gone, and Ian was gone, and there was just Emily and an evidence board under a harsh, white light. She blinked against the light but found she didn't need to – her eyes had adjusted straight away. And then she looked at the board and there they were, all of them, dead – Hotch and Jack and Garcia and Morgan and Rossi and Reid and JJ and Henry and Will, just bodies, blood – and she screamed, a painful, visceral sound she didn't even know she was capable of producing._

* * *

When she woke, her throat was raw and stinging. She swallowed hard and winced – the scream must have been real. She reached to her side and then remembered she was alone, in her own apartment, and had been for the last two nights – it was a work night, a school night… He wasn't here. With tears stinging her eyes, she rolled over onto her front, sending a shot of pain through her arm in the process, burying her face so hard in her pillow she could barely breathe. She surfaced a few minutes later, gasping, and sat up on the edge of the bed, looking at her alarm clock. Well, she was supposed to get up in an hour anyway…

Her body felt weak and shaky as she went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She took off her shorts and underwear, and her hands lingered at the hem of the t-shirt. She took a deep breath and pulled it over her head – it smelled of Hotch, and for a split second that made her feel better, until it was off and dropped to the floor and then she could see him again as he had been in the photograph, slumped sideways, shot execution-style, the trail of blood from the bullet hole congealed on his forehead. She closed her eyes as the image and accompanying nausea hit her and swore in a whisper. "Get a hold of yourself," she said roughly, patting down the new waterproof dressing on her arm and stepping into the shower.

The water was some kind of relief – some of the vividness of the dream began to fade as she breathed in the steam, scented with her citrus body wash. She washed herself roughly, trying to make herself feel clean and scrubbing a little too hard in the process. She got to her stomach and stopped, running her hands slowly over the scar. She exhaled hard, forced herself to stop touching it, and moved on to her hair. The hair-washing process took a little longer when one arm needed a five minute break in between exertions, but eventually she stepped out of the shower feeling as clean as she was going to get, and started to get ready.

* * *

When Reid arrived in the bullpen, confident he'd be the first one in because it was hideously early, he went straight for the coffee. He didn't notice Emily until he was halfway to his desk, and her sudden unexpected presence made him jump. "Morning, Doctor Observational," she said, with a teasing smile, as he mopped spilled coffee from the bottom and sides of his mug before sitting it on his desk.

"You never beat me here!" he said defensively, but he smiled back and sat down, spun his seat toward her. "Is everything okay? Can I get you a coffee?"

She gestured vaguely toward the mug on her desk. "I got one already. But thank you."

He nodded and took a drink – it was still a little too hot to be enjoyable, but he was tired. "You only answered one of my questions," he said as he set it back down.

She tilted her head and smiled at him, and a battle raged inside her head – her first instinct was to tell him she was great, everything was fine, she just came in early to get a head start. But there was no good reason to lie to him. He was looking at her with such concern, and she had nobody to hide from anymore, and she'd made them both a promise. "Nightmare," she said, shrugging. "It wasn't worth going back to sleep, even if I could have, and I didn't want to just…" She shrugged again.

"Sit around your apartment waiting to leave," he supplied. "Yeah." They exchanged rueful smiles, and she felt a rush of affection for him. "Anything you want to talk about?" he asked.

She took a deep breath, leaned back in her seat and then looked back at him. "He got to you," she said. "Doyle. All of you, and…"

Her face clouded over and he said, "It's okay. We all get them." She looked up and nodded with a small smile and he smiled back encouragingly. He'd had a nightmare too – the one he had in the first few weeks after she'd gone, and it had taken him a few minutes after waking up to remember she was alive, and home. He cast around for something to cheer her up, and then brightened. "Hey – want to see some magic?"

Her face broke into a genuine smile, and JJ came out of the elevator just as Reid produced the cards from his pocket. "Magic?" she said enthusiastically, rushing over and putting down her bags. She put an arm around Emily's shoulders and squeezed before sitting on her desk, looking expectantly at Reid.

He grinned. "Prepare to be amazed…"

* * *

By the time Hotch arrived, a little late because Jessica had been late in picking up Jack for school, Reid had the whole team gathered around him. He watched from just outside the bullpen as Reid reached his finale – moments like these gave him insight into how the team was doing, and although they weren't supposed to profile each other there was sometimes no other option. And it was a rare treat to see them so relaxed. Reid was sitting back revelling in the success of his tricks, looking around at the team with a wide smile and an open posture. Morgan nudged Emily and said something, pointing to Reid, obviously teasing. She grinned as her reply made him laugh. Hotch breathed a sigh of relief – things seemed to be getting back on track between those two. Garcia stood behind Emily with her hands on her shoulders, and reached down to touch the bandaged part of her arm with quiet concern. Emily smiled, reassuring her, lifted her arm above her head just to prove she could, and Garcia laughed and bopped her nose with a fluffy pen. That made Morgan laugh, so she bopped him too, and then worked her way around the rest of the team. Rossi pretended to cower from her, so she bopped him twice.

Hotch caught himself grinning, and JJ looked over and met his eyes. She smiled, and he nodded, and she nodded back and then gestured for him to come over. Normally he'd go straight to his office, but joining them for a few minutes couldn't hurt… "Morning," he said, as he reached them.

Emily looked up and grinned, and Garcia, in a fit of extreme bravery, reached over and bopped his nose with the pen. He grabbed it and did the same to her, and her face broke into a surprised smile. "And here I thought you'd fire me!" she said, as he handed her pen back, smiling enigmatically.

Emily leaned back in her chair, smiling contentedly, and JJ squeezed her shoulder. "I cannot tell you how much I missed you guys."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Please do check out my other story for some Jack-and-Hotch-and-Em-related adorableness (hopefully) and let me know what you think of this & that. Reviews really do brighten up my day :)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's note: Hello! I'm sorry there's been such a massive gap – my motivation took a serious nosedive, and I've had a lot of IRL work to do, but I'm back on track. I'm still not sure I'm totally happy with this chapter but stick with it please, and leave reviews, and I'll be back fighting ;) Thank you for your cooperation. (TW for mention of child abuse – nothing graphic or particularly descriptive.)**

* * *

"We're on our way." Hotch hung up the phone and looked out of his office window at his team. They still looked happy and relaxed, the way he'd left them a couple of hours ago, and he gave himself a second to regret having to burst their bubble. Then he got up and went out to stand at the top of the stairs. "Conference room," he said. "Quickly please."

The team gathered and he briefed them, double speed, on the case that had just been called in. Michael Olson had been missing for exactly a year, since he was taken from bed the night of his fifth birthday, and he'd shown up two hours ago in the women's restroom at a gas station, in pyjamas. "He's scared," Hotch continued, "and the local PD are having a hard time getting any information from him, but he seems to be saying there's at least one other boy where he came from. We need to get going – we'll discuss it more on the jet. Garcia, look into missing children in the area – go back five years for now. Hopefully speaking to Michael will help us narrow it down. And send us a list of people who made purchases at the gas station in the time preceding Michael being found. It's unlikely the unsub was that careless, but we should take a look just in case."

"Like lightning, sir."

"Thank you."

Faces set with determination, they got up and started leaving, and Hotch touched Emily's elbow as the room cleared. "You're not cleared for the field," he said, nodding to her arm.

"I'm not staying h-"

"I know," he said quickly. "I don't want you to. But I'm going to want you to stick to interviews, victimology… Michael is in the hospital, I want you to stay with him unless we need you at the station."

She sighed, and nodded, rubbing her injured arm. She hated not being at her full capacity at times like this, but she'd be a liability in the field. "Makes sense," she grumbled. "I just wish it didn't."

He smiled, brushing a hand down her back as he held the door open for her, and they headed for the jet.

* * *

They went over the details on the jet, but didn't get far. They couldn't without talking to Michael. Hotch delegated tasks, then they found seats and got comfortable. Emily opened Michael's case file on her tablet, going over what the police had already tried. Since he'd been taken to hospital, the doctors had only managed to do minimal checks before he started screaming and pushing them away. He could walk, and he'd said a few words but they couldn't make much sense of it. He was responding a little better – but my no means well – to female officers and hospital staff than men. She bit her lip, hoping she could get through to him, trying to figure out where to start.

"I've never asked you if you're still comfortable doing child interviews," Hotch said quietly, from across the table.

Emily's eyes flicked up from her tablet. She knew she'd been given the lead on interviewing children before because she was good at it – she was soft but professional and calm and put the kids at ease – but she also knew it was partly because she didn't have kids herself. It should've been easier for her. "Just because you guys didn't know about Declan before, that doesn't mean I didn't."

He flinched. "I know. I just should've asked when you came back."

"It's okay," she said, brushing her fingertips over the back of his hand. "Yes, I'm okay with it." He turned his hand over, closed his fingers around hers and she squeezed. "Are _you_ okay?"

He met her eyes with a tense smile. This little boy was almost the same age as Jack, and it looked like they were going to be more. It wasn't going to be an easy one by a long shot. He glanced over at JJ and saw the same tension in her face as she stared at a book, then looked back at Emily. She had followed his gaze, and she traced her thumb over the back of his hand gently. He nodded. "Better when we figure this out."

* * *

Morgan waited outside the room with Michael's parents. Emily walked toward the bed, making sure he could hear her coming. He was curled in a ball under the sheets. She took the chair by his bed and pulled it back a little, sitting down at a safe distance. "Hi Michael," she said. "My name is Emily, and I'm with the FBI. We're the good guys." He didn't stir, but his little body was too tense to be asleep. "I know you're in there," she continued softly. "And it's okay to stay there if you want to. But I'm here to talk to you because I think you can help us catch whoever did this. I know you can." Still nothing. "If you want me to stop or go away, just tell me and I will, okay? I'm not here to make you do anything you don't want to do. But I know that you can be really brave, and help us to find the person who hurt you."

She waited for several minutes, watching for movement, holding her breath and chewing her lip. Then there was movement under the sheets – he was uncurling a little. He still showed no signs of coming out, but he seemed alert. "You can come out," Emily said gently. "It's safe. My job is to keep people safe, and catch bad guys. And I'm right here. You're safe now." She waited a few more minutes. Very slowly, he crept toward the opening in the sheets, and a little face appeared there, big blue eyes looking warily up at her. "You think you could answer some questions?" He regarded her a little longer, then nodded. Emily glanced toward the door and gave Morgan a quick nod, then started with the questions.

* * *

It took a couple of hours, and a few times he got scared and went back under the sheets again. But they got there. He had been somewhere dark, with no windows, but there was a bed. He was on his own there until a few days ago. Then there had been another boy, Nathan. He was five too. She asked about the room, and Nathan, and then eventually, when he was sitting up straight on the bed and answering with minimal hesitation, she asked who had kept them there. It was a man and a woman, he said. The man had done the hurting. She asked what they looked like. And then she asked what they had done. He looked down at the sheets and talked quietly, almost in a mumble, and she took notes, nodding, making sure she was thinking not feeling, at least until she was alone. When he seemed to be finished, she said, "You're doing a really good job, Michael. I'm going to go outside and call my team and tell them what you said, because that's going to help us catch them, okay?" She got up, taking her phone out of her pocket.

"Wait." Emily turned back, smiling, and Michael's eyes pierced hers. "You keep people safe, right?"

"Right."

"Will you come back?"

She swallowed hard and smiled. "I'll be right back."

* * *

Hotch, JJ, Rossi and Reid sat around the table in the conference room the locals had given them to work in. They'd sent Garcia CCTV footage that showed Michael being removed from the back of an SUV by a man and a woman. They kept their faces hidden, but she was analysing the footage for physical identifiers. They'd spoken to the manager at the gas station and the cleaner who had found Michael, and neither of them remembered anything about the couple. It seemed like they had just pulled up, dumped him there, and taken off. They had worked up a very rough profile based on what they knew about Michael's abduction, but without information from Michael and his parents, it wasn't nearly enough.

Hotch's phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the caller ID – Emily – and answered immediately, putting her on speaker so JJ, Rossi and Reid could hear her too. "You're on speaker. Anything?"

She relayed everything Michael had said, keeping her voice brisk and professional. He stared at the phone as she spoke, allowing himself only a quick glance at JJ's face – so tense it was almost a glare. "Okay. Thank you. I'll keep you updated." He hesitated. "Are you okay?" he added, work voice still on.

"Yeah," she responded, not dropping hers either. "Let me know what happens."

* * *

Several hours later, Emily sat down beside Michael's mother in the waiting room, handing her a coffee. Michael had given all he could and fallen asleep, his old teddy bear from home tucked under his sheets with him. Morgan had gone back to the station after interviewing the parents, and Michael's dad had gone home to get them some more clothes. "Do you have any children, Agent Prentiss?" Mrs Olson asked.

Emily felt her jaw tense. She'd been dreading that question since returning to the BAU, and her heart started pounding uncomfortably in her throat. "No," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral, trying not to let herself think that she used to say _not yet_.

"Huh. You're great with him. You'd be a great mom."

Emily just smiled, her stomach twisting. She sipped her coffee for something to do, and got up gratefully when her phone rang. "Hotch – what's going on?" She wasn't used to being so out of the loop, and she wasn't very good at it.

"Garcia found them. We're going in."

She exhaled slowly. "Good," she said.

"I'll call you."

* * *

JJ and Hotch ran down the stairs to the basement, and he covered her as she crossed the room. Nothing here except a bed, and a little boy tied to it, screaming through the tape covering his mouth. Eyes so much like Henry's, just a little darker. Hotch holstered his gun JJ knelt at Nathan's side, her heart thudding in her ears, adrenaline pumping through her. She removed the tape gently. "Nathan? We're with the FBI. You're safe now. I'm going to get these off of you…"

Her hands shook as she untied his restraints, but she got them off quickly, and his arms and legs wound around her as he started to sob into her shoulder. "It's okay," she said. "You're safe, sweetheart."

She heard Hotch warn the EMTs outside they were coming, and she met his eyes briefly. There was relief in his face alongside the tension she knew was keeping his emotions in check. Morgan's update in their earpieces told them they had both suspects in cuffs and were taking them out via the front door, so JJ waited, holding Nathan close, hoping he couldn't hear his captors yelling as they were marched down the hallway and out the door. He trembled in her arms. "It's okay," she said softly, her voice shaking a little. "They can't get you. You're safe now…"

* * *

Emily sat in a single seat on the plane, pretending to be asleep, trying to hold herself together until she got home. _You'd be a great mom_. The lump in her throat wouldn't go away, and she couldn't stop hearing it. _Do you have any children, Agent Prentiss_? She couldn't do this. She got up, not looking at anyone, went to the bathroom and locked herself in.

JJ and Hotch exchanged glances as Emily disappeared. She had hugged them both at the station, knowing the case had been particularly tough on them, but she hadn't said much, and she'd been feigning sleep poorly on a plane full of profilers for a couple of hours now. Something was obviously up. JJ glanced around, making sure everyone else was really asleep, before leaning across the aisle to Hotch. "Is she okay?"

"I have no idea," he replied honestly, almost anxiously. "I don't know what's wrong."

"Should I um..?" JJ nodded toward the bathroom. Hotch just looked uncertainly back at her, and she sighed. She had no idea what to do. Eventually she got up, gave his shoulder a quick squeeze, and stood outside the bathroom door and knocked gently. "Emily? It's JJ."

* * *

**So thank you again for reading and I'm sorry it took so long. Like I said I'm still not sure about it, but I stopped and started so many times and just didn't know how to fix it, and I'm much happier with how the next chapter is going. So please please leave reviews and I'll be back on track :) **


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